I was striking out at every avenue and so I did the only thing logically left to do - I went to an Irish bar. I don't normally like to go out to bars by myself; I've acknowledged the fact that I am a rather shy and quiet individual so I much prefer bringing a six pack home and enjoying it with friends and/or family; this night was no exception.
The bar was crowded with groups of people all around blabbering and drinking so I searched for any open seat. I found the only available bar stool and said hello to the guy to my right. He was covered in tattoos and well-built with arms each the size of my head (not including my hair). Basically he could kick my ass with simply the power of his pinky. Strangely enough, he engaged in some simple conversation with me and by the time his wife arrived to the bar we had already become well-acquainted.
I told them of my road trip and they shared similar stories of driving on a whim and going where the wind took them. We agreed that every person should take a road trip at some point in their lives; it is a great way to see what's out there and to challenge yourself both mentally and physically.
Seemingly before I even knew it, the two of them had invited me to stay on their couch for the night and I was quick to oblige! Needless to say, I did what all great guests do and left something at their apartment on accident upon leaving the next morning.
The generosity I encountered this night was remarkable and the theme has continued. I am seeing time and time again that when all is but lost, it is the kindness of strangers who come to the rescue.