Jumping The Tempo
The following reflection was written in 2003, when I was between 25 and 26 years old.
I worked at Purity in Plaistow on the weekends through the winter and my car was constantly refusing to start for me on Saturday mornings in the cold and the snow. I spent a lot of time with one of the Campus Safety officers, a big and tall blonde woman, who came out to jump my car almost every other weekend.
I was always very quiet while I sat in her car waiting for my car to start. I think that disturbed her because the rest of the students she interacted with on a regular basis were probably hard to shut up. I was always quiet though. I didn’t know what the hell to talk about anyway.
Purity never got used to the idea that I had a shitty car. I don’t think I ever got outright chewed out, but they always had this attitude like, “How dare you?” If they had paid me better than maybe I could’ve afforded a reliable automobile.