Telling It The Way You Want Them To Hear It

THE LADY, ostensibly, was quite sincere, although at the end of her posted paragraph was her oft used "ha". (Instead of lol). What she related was this: she was stopped at an intersection of a five lane street in the Tampa area. She noticed on the corner, at the crosswalk, a diminuitive elderly gentleman with oxygen tank and walker, looking to get across. Couldn't've weighed more than eighty pounds, said she. She instantly understood that he not only should not cross alone, he shouldn't be alone. She, the hero in waiting, put 'er in park, left it running, (perhaps so any arriving officer might more easily move her car), rushed to the corner, and escorted the man safely across. Like Hussein Bolt, she zipped bask to her luxury SUV (that matters), and before any of the honkies could honk, proceeded on her merry way. She never mentioned whether the intersection had disintegrated into chaos with cars swerving to miss her stationary vehicle. If it had, wouldn't she have told us? Either nobody passing by had a smart phone, or nobody used theirs to call the cops, or nobody wanted to, or nobody wanted to get shot by the apparently crazy lady hero... whichever. Her final sentence on the Facebook post said: "Well, that's my four cents worth. My good deed for the day.. Ha." The "ha", I thought, intended to minimize any impression that she was bragging about her bravery. Most responses to her little narrative were of the "cool deal, way to go" variety, pedestrain stuff. I wanted to do more, in terms of honesty. I had decided that either she was embellishing and exaggerating, outright fabricating, or, equally, likely, just plain crazy. A bonehead move risking chaos and disastrous destruction of vehicles and human life for no reason other than a good look. Look...any chance the gentleman had been through this a few times before, and knew what he was doing? "Were you there?" she asked me, creatively if not brilliantly. "How do you know I wasn't?", I retorted, with equal on the spot ingenuity. "You're in Arkansas", she reminded me. "Oh, that!", said I. And so it went, and so it goes. Well, and then, I should have kept my big fat keyboard shut. No, you don't have to respond to everything, or anything, that people post on Facebook, because, well, peeps'll post damned near anything on Facebook. Usually, my lady friend is content to tell about recent instances in which she handed out money to an apparently hungry poorly dressed person. I never utter a peep about that, bless her heart. At a busy intersection in the Tampa Bay part of Florida there are the usual four corners, correct? Maybe a business, maybe a business being built, fast food, gas. Hell, maybe a private home. Zoning sucks. Definitely, a place to park. If not a parking lot, then a driveway, or an alley, or....Hell, get the hell off the damned busy street, and park your car! If the gentleman of presumed limited mobility and capabilites is as unabled as you presume, he'll still be standing there, on the corner, and you can safely do the escort, without arousing any antipathy or police. If he isn't, he'll be halfway across, and still alive. In the time it took for her and the gentleman to safey cross, anything could have happened, and perhaps did. Did she ask him if he needed assistance? Since then, has she asked any police officers if she did the right thing? What about his pride and dignity? Folks who don't need help often don't want help, and feel affronted at any offers. I think I'll just stick to donating blood.