My name is Bill, and I drive cars for a living. I had dropped off a company car in Chattanooga, then rented a car and pointed it south for Florida. I was picking up a personally owned car in Ocala, FL, then taking it out to Pismo Beach, CA.
As I got nearer to Ocala, I received a text from my old friend Chico, who I grew up with in Birmingham. Now he was married with children living in Silver Springs, just adjacent to Ocala. His name was Paul, but everyone called him Chico, the nickname he got in our high school Spanish class. He had adopted the name Chico and that's what everybody called him. He texted to tell me he'd meet me soon at Budget rental car in Ocala. Then he'd drive me to my pick up ten miles away. He wanted to know if I had time for lunch.
A bad car accident on Interstate 75 slowed me down quite a bit, and by the time I reached Ocala I was on the verge of being late. I always pride myself on being early, and didn't want there to be any chance that I'd make Chico wait on me. I pulled into the Budget in Ocala, which was obviously a converted gas station from a past life.
I got my backpack and my paperwork out after I parked, and walked inside Budget. There was a huge man sitting on a stool behind the counter. "You picking up a car?" he asked.
"No, I'm bringing you one."
"Bringing me one?"
"Yep, all the way from Tennessee."
"Tennessee?"
"Yes sir."
"Woo-hoo, I just love them Tennessee cars. Old Jimbo will take good care of you."
I smiled and nodded, handing him my rental agreement. Jimbo looked to be north of 350 lbs, and the stool he was sitting on was completely enveloped by his body. "I filled it up with gas," I told him.
"Filled it to the hilt?"
"I filled it with as much gas as it could take."
"So right on up to the tippy top."
"Uh, yes sir. By the way, a friend of mine is supposed to come pick me up here."
Jimbo dropped my rental agreement and just stared at me. "And?"
"And nothing, just wondered if you'd see anyone wandering around."
"If I saw someone lurking around this property, my first call would be to the Ocala PD."
"Oh no, Chico wouldn't cause any harm."
"As far as you know," said Jimbo.
"No, Chico is --
Jimbo interrupted. "Chico, you say. Sounds like one of them Mexicans."
"No you misunderstand, he's--" This time, I was interrupted by my cell phone ringing. It was Chico, and I answered immediately. "Hey buddy, where are you?"
"I'm stuck in the restroom."
"Don't worry buddy, with my stomach troubles sometimes I can't leave the bathroom either."
"Can you help me?"
"Help you how? I can wait for you here as long as it takes."
"I am here, Bill."
"Here at Budget?"
"Yes, I went to their restroom to pee, and now I'm trapped in the toilet. The door is sealed tight and won't open."
"Don't panic, I'm coming to your rescue."
I started out the door, and Jimbo said "Hey partner, we ain't done yet."
"I'll be right back, my friend is locked in your restroom."
"The Mexican?"
"He's not Mex--"
"Ain't no lock on the restroom door, but it does stick shut real bad. You're gonna have fun trying to get him out."
As I walked out, I saw a very odd looking man standing in the parking lot, watching me intently. I say odd because he was wearing a white turban and a red dot on his forehead. He looked like a villain from an INDIANA JONES movie. Also, he was crouched over and walking in a serpentine fashion.
The restroom was a small building in the back corner of the parking lot. I went to the door and knocked. "Chico, are you there?"
Chico sounded so relieved. "Bill, oh you sure are a sound for sore ears. I prayed you would come and save me."
"Get back from the door, I'm gonna see if I can get it open." I began throwing all my weight behind my shoulder and rammed against the door again and again. It didn't budge, and after ten tries my shoulder was very sore.
"Hey Bill, I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack. I feel trapped, like I'll never get out."
"Hang on buddy, I will find a way." I began to kick the door with the bottom of my foot as hard as I possibly could. After twenty attempts, it didn't seem to be working. Then I heard something puffing like a freight train coming fast behind me.
I turned to see Jimbo running at me, and he shouted "Clear the way, coming through." I dove out of the way and Jimbo ran right into the door. Not only did it open, but the door came off of its top hinge and Jimbo hit the floor face first. Chico ran out the door and gave me a hug. Then we both helped the big man get back on his feet, because it was clear he couldn't do it himself. Even for the two of us, it was not an easy task.
Jimbo took a long look at Chico and said, "You know, he don't look Mexican to me."
As Chico started to speak to me, I noticed the odd looking man in the parking lot and watched him carefully. There was something about him that made me very uneasy.
Suddenly, I heard sirens blaring, and two police cars and a SWAT van pulled into the Budget parking lot. The policemen all came directly to us with their guns drawn. Jimbo stepped up and asked what they were there for. They said they had a call that there were terrorists here trying to blow up the restroom with a bomb. Jimbo was confused, but for me this type of bizarre happening is kind of a daily routine. Weird people and strange situations are drawn to me, like I'm a magnet.
The man with the turban yelled out, "I call police, I call! They are the terrorists, but I have the bomb." And with that, he went running off, with the police officers in hot pursuit.
Chico asked me, "Can we get out of here, buddy?"
"Sure, I'd love to buy you lunch."
"First I get locked in the toilet of no escape, and then SWAT shows up looking for terrorists and a bomb. Not exactly a typical day for you, I'm guessing."
"You know what, Chico. Days like today have become commonplace for me."
Chico laughed. "You really ought to write about this adventure."
And so I did.
