I confess to being a public enemy when it comes to trying to be funny on Twitter. The bulk of my feed is filled with lame attempts at humor¹ and I am not the only guilty party. But, there are times when Twitter serves a Greater Purpose (and perhaps other times, a Greater Porpoise).
A couple Saturdays back, I had just finished an overpriced, under-French Toast’d² breakfast, when I decided to check Twitter on my phone (sort of an after meal mint for the 21st Century). I saw a tweet from a friend asking for help—she had a flat tire, and required assistance putting on the spare.
Thanks to a quick exchange of tweets and a peek at my Maps app, I learned Rachel was less than a mile away–well within walking distance. Like a 21st Century Dudley Do-Right (both in spirit and in abilities), I was off to lend a hand.
I had just finished reading The Lost City of Z, which was about the famous (and missing) explorer Percy Fawcett and his search for a lost city in the Amazon. The book was filled with stories about explorers in the early part of the 20th Century, and I figured if these folks could handle exploring the jungles of the world, I could certainly walk 0.7 miles to help out a friend.
Let’s rewind a bit: via my “phone,” I was able to see a friend needed help, get a fix on her location, see how far away she was on a map of the city and get walking directions. If need be, I bet I could have found directions, or a video, on how to change a tire too (but fear not, I have Experience).
About nine minutes later (I walk fast), I found Rachel and got to work. A neighbor noticed our plight and offered us the use of his hydraulic jack. He was a charming fellow, who used profanity as one would a punctuation mark³. Needless to say, we got along famously.
With the tire fixed, Rachel gave my dirty hands and I a ride home. I hadn’t discovered a lost city, or even a lost shopping mall, but I still had quite the adventure—all thanks to Twitter and my smart phone.
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¹ Just like this blog.
² The breakfast in question came with two slices of French toast and four slices of regular toast. How about we split the difference? Four slices of French toast and call it good.
³ Lewis Black has a great joke about this sort of thing.
