A not-quite-good-enough Good Samaritan

I was late for my haircut appointment and fiddling with my iPod when I heard a noise above the din of my ear buds.

"Excuse me!"

It was a woman in a beat-up car, waving me over.

"My car died. Can you push me up the hill?"

It was a fairly steep incline that would require a good 20 feet of movement plus a slight turn to get her out of the way of traffic.

Now, I like to think I'm in pretty good shape, but I'm no Ivan Putski. Nevertheless, I went over and began pushing. No luck. I stepped back from the car when I heard another voice.

"Why don't you roll the car downhill to the side of the road?"

This driver at the stoplight made a good point. I let gravity do the work and got the car down the hill and to the side of the road. Thankfully, no cars were coming, but I was ready to channel my-inner-fifth-grade school safety patrol and halt traffic.

(Speaking of, I've noticed more and more police officers directing traffic at intersections where there are no accidents or problems. This ends up slowing down traffic because drivers have to be careful not to hit the officers. If only there were some sort of light system that signaled to drivers when it was time to move...)

Now we're on the side of the road and I'm definitely going to be late for my haircut. The woman thanks me and I'm about to go on my way.

"I dropped my phone in the sink the other week and it hasn't been working. Can I use yours?"

I wanted to do a quick scan of my surroundings to get as good a look at my kidnappers as possible, figuring this had to be a setup. But I gave her my phone and waited.

And waited. And waited.

I thought about all of what appeared to be trash in her car and wondered if she were one of those people who says, "It looks messy but I know where everything is."

I thought about the sales people who, when they want you to sign something, ask for your autograph. It's flattering when you're 12 and for a split-second when you're an adult, until you realize this person would have the worst autograph collection ever.

I thought about Bachman-Turner Overdrive. "Let it ride" or "let it roll?" Let's pick a directive and stick with it, BTO.

I thought about the people walking behind me. We were stopped directly across the street from a hospital entrance. A frail-looking, elderly woman with toothpicks for legs was slowly shuffling toward the hospital, left hand on the brick building for support. Wouldn't it be something if she asked me...

"Excuse me," she said.

You've got to be kidding, I thought.

"Can you help me across the street?"

I stammered something about how I was already earning my Good Samaritan badge with the woman in the broken-down car.

I'm not sure she bought it; fortunately, someone else came along to help the patient to the hospital.

The tow truck had been arranged finally and was on its way. The woman thanked me profusely for helping her. I wished her the best and called to say I would be late for my haircut.

The lesson in all of this, I think, is that just when you think you've seen everything life, you realize you ain't seen nothing yet.