Out of gas on the freeway,
just before rush hour,
on a day I didn’t have lunch.
I need to go to the bathroom,
and it’s hot.
But the real sting –
his chuckle when I called.
The patronizing look and tone,
I know is to come.
I regret calling,
I should have waited for the tow
truck. I could have kept quiet.
He would have never known.
I could have rallied it
into a small triumph
of my ability to cope
and take care of myself.
When he broke down
by the road he couldn’t deal
with calling for a tow.
I did it from home,
on hold for forty-five minutes,
before going to find
where he was.