I ended up learning the hard way that the water pressure here at the Facility in the Middle of Nowhere does not have the pressure required to drive an industrial strength water hose nozzle; nothing is more pathetic than a dribble of water from a nozzle when one is expecting a rushing tourrent.
Okay, maybe a wet cat is more pathetic, but not much else.
Next time, get the non-industrial water hose nozzle.
I know what it's like being stuck in the middle of nowhere; 5½ years ago I found myself in the middle of Georgia in a car with a seized up transmission. Being 500 miles from home is bad enough.
It's worse when half-way between Christmas and New Years Eve.
On the weekend.
But due to the kindness of quite a few people I didn't know (like the tow truck driver who never did charge me for towing) and quite a few people I didn't know in person (some friends I met over the Internet drove the three hours south from Atlanta to pick me up) I was able to enjoy the rest of my vacation and get home (I arranged a ride with a couple down to Disney; from there I was on my own, which is a story for another time).
Chuck didn't have it quite as bad.
Chuck, a high rise window washer (which made for some interesting
conversation during the drive) who hails from Ohio, found himself stuck in Miami, having missed
the last Tri-Rail
train. My friend Greg found him there (as he too, missed the last Tri-Rail
train out of
Dodge Miami). Chuck needed to get to the Tri-Rail
station serving the Ft. Lauderdale/Hollywood International
Airport so the two of them shared a taxi (which Greg expensed to his
company, since he was down in Miami on business).
It was from there that I met Greg and Chuck to give them a lift.
Actually, I was only expecting to give Greg a lift.
But to save Chuck from riding his bike nearly 10 miles, at night, up hill all the way (okay, so maybe not up hill) I gave him and his bike a lift.