Life has been real busy over here at the Undgrd headquarters as of late. All of our outstanding journalists have been out receiving higher education at various institutions of their choice and finding time to finish our articles has been difficult to say the least. Lots of new content will be coming very soon, so stay tuned, but in the meantime, I’ll leave you with one of my latest English 101 assignments. Here is a little narrative essay I had to type up about being stranded with no money and no form of transportation in a strange place. The essay had to include a thesis statement somewhere within its contents. Feel free to critique and comment. As always, we here at the Undergrad Underground value your opinion!

The sun was high in the sky and beaming down directly on my red, 1999 Audi A6 wagon. I sat hunched to one side in my car seat, arm hanging out the window, staring at nothing but open road. The painted, yellow, double line divider in the middle of the road seemed to stretch endlessly beyond the horizon and nothing but barren, vacant landscapes flanked me to my left and right. I was on my way back home to Washington D.C. and had some how ended up in the middle of West Virginia on a July Sunday at 12:45 PM. It seemed like it couldn’t get any hotter, I couldn’t get more lost and that this day couldn’t get worse than it already was. I sighed deeply, went to change the track on the Astrud Gilberto CD I had playing, and peeped a quick glance at my gas gauge. My heart dropped.

The orange light on my gas gauge was on denoting that my Audi was running on emergency reserve fuel. I had been driving for miles and didn’t see a gas station anywhere in sight. I knew I was going to run out of gas soon and my mind raced on how I was going to deal with my imminent crisis. I had left New York with about ¾ of a tank of gas which is usually more than enough to get me home to D.C., but getting lost in West Virginia had led me far beyond my destination. About ten minutes after I had noticed I was running on reserve fuel, I heard my Audi’s 2.8-liter V6 engine sputter and I quickly maneuvered my A6 to the side of the road. I plunged my right hand quickly into the right pocket of my tastefully tattered Taverniti So jeans and grabbed my Blackberry. My face dropped as I read the words “NO SERVICE” on the screen of my Blackberry. I got out and leaned against my Audi for a few minutes until I decided to walk for a little bit to see if I could find a gas station.

I was alone, walking into the abyss of the unknown. Sweat consumed my body like I’ve never felt before. My stomach sang a loud song of hunger and my throat cried out for cold liquid. Vultures circled above my head as if they were sure that they had found their dinner for the night. The situation looked increasingly grim, but after about 30 minutes of aimless walking, I stumbled upon a gas station. The station looked like it had been deserted for years. The front door was consumed with rust, most of the windows were busted, and the actual gas pumps were shut off. I sat down under the pump canopy and wiped my head. The landscape still showed no multiplicity until I looked up and saw a Motel 6 billboard that said “Motel 6 in one mile!” My spirit was renewed as I took a deep breath and started walking again.

The Motel 6 was just as unpleasant as the abandoned gas station. There were only three cars in the parking lot, all American “classics” far past their prime. The siding on the building was heavily stained and the pool to the right had a repulsive collection of debris floating about in it. The desk attendant that greeted me once I got inside of the Motel reflected the unattractiveness of the establishment. I asked to use the phone but she vehemently denied my access. Apparently, I had to be a paying costumer to use the phone, so I asked to have a room for the night. The rude desk attendant told me the price and I reached for my wallet only to realize that I must have lost it in New York. At this point, with no money, I tried to explain my story to the uncouth woman behind the desk, but she still wouldn’t let me use the phone. As dismal as the situation was, I keep my head up and prepared myself for my walk back to my car. As I turned to walk out, a young white man with a tight, grey Audi t-shirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of dingy New Balances on walked up to me with a smirk on his face. He pointed at my keys dangling off my belt loop and asked “2000 A6?”

I replied, “Close but no. It’s a 1999 A6 Avant and it’s not doing too well right now.”

“Yeah, I overheard your conversation with the receptionist. This is a pretty bad place to run out of gas! Hey, I’ve got an empty plastic gas container in my trunk. I’ll take you to the nearest town, fill it up, and drive you back to your car so you can get your Audi topped off and make it back home. The name is Rick by the way”

My life had just been tuned upside down in a matter of seconds. The receptionist stared at the two of us with a look of pure guilt on her face. I must have thanked Rick a million times before we even got to his car. The whole ride to the gas station and back we talked all about Audi but in the back of my mind I kept trying to comprehend the miracle that I was just a part of. When we got back to my Audi, I asked Rick why he helped me.

“Us Audi guys have to look out for on another. Hell, the whole human race has to look out for on another. Be safe man.” he answered.

I thought about what Rick said on my drive home about the whole human race looking out for one another. Without people setting aside their differences or not being selfish, many monumental positive moments in history would have never happened. We, as humans, all have a responsibility to contribute positive things to the world we live in and to help others when they are down.

A big thank you goes out to my collaborators on this essay, Rosey, Myron, and Samuel.