It was the worst day of my life, at the worst point in my life. I was working with severely mentally ill men for a living and dealing with an autistic man who was semi-stalking me and an ex-husband who was threatening me. It seemed there was nowhere I could go to get away from weirdos. I surmised that these problems were largely due to my being “too nice”, and resolved to henceforth be cold to all men who struck me as “sketchy”. I was in my car in the bank drive-through when I realized I had overdrawn my checking account by twelve dollars. My car was almost out of gas, I was running late for work, and I had tummy trouble. While the bank teller was helping me figure out my error, an extremely odd-looking man across the street caught my eye and started loping toward me. He was big and tall with dark hair, pale skin and a creepy, slightly daft grin. “Oh no, not another one,” I thought, and remembered my resolution. I glared at him and pointedly locked my doors as he approached. He kept coming. I rolled up my windows. He came right up to my window and rapped on the glass. “Go… away…” I said fiercely through gritted teeth. He smiled kindly and informed me that my front tire was completely flat and unsafe to drive on. I pretended I hadn’t just told him to get lost, turned to sweetness and light, and thanked him profusely. Then I drove home, resolving never to resolve anything again. Rachel – NH