Life in the Slow Lane

(Things they never warned me about)

I was crossing the parking a lot on my way to my car minding my own business. Suddenly, my left ankle popped, and moving in any direction became a big task. The pain slowed me to a standstill. I quickly dismissed faulting myself for neither buying nor carrying a cane. It would not have done any good. That does not include having the means for fighting off ambulatory thieves who like to prey upon the handicapped. Nope. I was standing there, stranded there, waiting to be victimized. But I noticed that I could inch along in tiny little steps.

It was working, but I was still a long way from my car. So onward I went toward my destination which I estimated now to be 30 minutes into the future. Coincidentally, there were literally hundreds of vacant “handicapped” parking spots nearby. I finally understood the need for them, although they were only an after-the-fact reminder of my predicament that day.

Suddenly, I was approached by a little old lady who was not afflicted by my condition. She was very kind. She said, “Excuse me, sir, but you look like you are in need of help. How can I help you?”

“Wow! What a thoughtful and caring lady,” I thought. “And very alert to her surroundings.

I saw the Urgent Need signs all over her face. She was almost pleading.

So I blurted out my most dire need and said: “Thank you, Yes. I could use $500,000 for a new house.”

She looked stunned. Then she turned toward a fellow who was walking 10 steps behind her. She yelled, “Stay away George. This a-hole is dangerous, He’s f**king crazy.”

I noted that kindness is not necessarily logical.