It’s easy to look around and despair at the state of humanity. I get it. Things look grim. But I didn’t get hypothermia last night because someone opened the door for a total stranger wearing … less than proper clothing. THREAD 1/

Let’s start at the beginning. There’s a pandemic, if you haven’t heard. And, I have been a vocal proponent of staying the fuck at home. 2/ https://twitter.com/medievalguy/status/1239258592823382023?s=21

So we have. Masks and isolation. We’ve been good. Then, about a week ago, my wife found a rental cabin in the NC mountains that had all sorts of terrific cleaning procedures. 3/

Yesterday, after arriving and doing some of our own cleaning of the cabin (can’t be too careful!), we settled in for some relaxation as a winter storm rolled in. 4/

We enjoyed a fine bottle of wine in front of the fire. ($10 bottle because we’re splurging on vacation, obviously.) Relaxed, we decided to try out the hot tub in back. 5/

It was lovely. Beautiful snow coming down through the pines. We definitely over-stayed that “15-minute” rule about hot tubs. But we eventually needed to come in. 6/

That’s when we discovered that the door was locked. And our keys and phones and, well, everything were inside the cabin. The very lovely snow continued to fall. 7/

Instinctively, I looked for a hidden key. But I couldn’t find one. I checked the windows I could reach in hope that one wasn’t latched. No luck. 8/

There was a storage shed with a combo lock. I can usually pick those, so I tried to dial it in hoping that maybe there’d be a key inside. Alas, my fingers were too cold to feel the tumblers moving. 9/

So I put the wife back in the hot tub, warmed my hands in the water for a minute, then wrapped our two towels around myself for warmth. Then I went for a walk. 10/

I don’t want to over-sell this here. I didn’t hike across mountains in wet swim trunks and two threadbare towels during a winter storm. I walked up a road in wet swim trunks and two threadbare towels during a winter storm. 11/

Thankfully, I didn’t have to go far. Not even half a mile up the road I saw, parked by a little closed office, a truck with very little snow on it. BINGO. 12/

Knocked on the door. Waited. After a bit, a woman who looks to be about my age pops her head around the side of the building and asks if she can help me. 13/

Understand this from her perspective. I’ve been told I’m intimidating. A bald-but-bearded, broad-shouldered, 6-foot tall man. At the moment, it was around 9pm. I was wearing snow-filled slippers, and two towels over a freezing swimsuit. 14/

I explained the situation. I asked if I could use her phone. Honestly, I expected her to run for her truck, and I was contemplating what to do then. Hike for a house with lights on? Wait in hopes that she called the cops while she drove off? 15/

But she didn’t run. She listened. She was kind. She had pity on me. She let me use the phone. She let me in out of the cold — though still as far apart as we could manage. 16/

Turns out there was an emergency key. It was the first place I’d looked but was super well-hidden and I didn’t have a flashlight at that point. So I was able to hike back, and like a big goddamn hero save my wife from pruning overnight in the hot tub. 17/

But of course I’m *not* the hero. The hero is the one who didn’t run when I showed up in swimtrunks during a winter storm in a pandemic. (Hi, Lisa!) 17/

It’s so easy to think the worst of each other. And there *are* monsters out there. But most people are generally good people at heart. We all need to do a better job monster-hunting, but it’s good to remember the other thing, too. /END