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.