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I Saw You: Jump Around

In Music

You asked me for a jump, so I obliged. You said you were worried about not getting your client to where he needed to be and how your boss wouldn’t be so understanding. My car was now eye to eye with yours, like a pre-fight faceoff. Engines off. Red to positive. Black to negative. I turn on my engine to let your battery charge, but tell you to give it a few minutes before turning yours on, too. But nope, you turn it on right away. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work. I remind you a few more times to just wait long enough to let your comatose car juice up, but your state of distress seems to have made you deaf. “Lady, you have to wait a little bit to let your battery charge before turning it on!” I shout over the din. But it’s pointless. You keep impatiently turning your key anyway. Then, you bring out a Wienerschnitzel cup of Coke and pour it on your battery. “What are you doing?!” I ask. “That’s dangerous!” But you have no regard for safety, only for your anxious client and the tyrants who apparently run the driving company. After several texts, your manager finally calls. Even more panicked, you turn to me with your boss on hold. “Can you drop off my client at his destination since my car won’t start? I can’t afford another screw-up!” “Sorry, lady. But I’ve tried starting your car for 15 minutes now, and this is where my services end. I can’t do that.” You frown disapprovingly before turning back to your phone to diss me. “Boss, I’m trying, but this guy doesn’t want to help.”

I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to [email protected], or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.

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