It took two days to drive from Philadelphia to Toronto. I thought I could make it within a day but exhaustion took over just 2.5 hrs from completing the drive. So I had to grab a motel in bumblefuck wherever I was. There wasn't a bar or restaurant or even liquor store even remotely close. I awoke the next day and finished my journey. Once I dropped the bags, I had become thirsty...
Prior to reaching Toronto, my car had developed a rumbling noise. I knew almost then and there what it was, but I didn't want to believe it. As days passed and the kilometers ticked on, that rumble grew louder and louder with each speed increment. There was only one more day left before I needed to drive back, and I knew it would be a futile attempt to avoid disaster to try to make it home to fix it myself. Without the tools at the sanctity of my abode, I had no choice but to find a mechanic. In another country. On a Sunday.
I had found one, but what started out at 2pm on a Sunday became 11pm, the wheel bearing as I knew was boned, and I was without a car and just outside of Pearson about 40 minutes away from my hotel. I finally made it back past midnight. I was miserable. I guess you see where I'm going with this. And if you don't, I basically just ended every night till closing here at this bar. That's all.