Last night, on the way home from work, I was stopped at a stop light. Crossing the street in front of me was an old man, carrying a bag as he had evidently just done a bit of shopping. This man was hunchbacked and walking very slowly, obviously struggling. He looked to be in his eighties.

I so wanted to pull over and offer this man a ride home. Even after the light changed, I wanted to turn around and go back. I thought very seriously about it.

In the end, I didn�t do it because I didn�t feel safe. I wasn't afraid of an eighty year-old man with a hunch back; I think I could have taken him if need be. But who knows what was waiting at home for this man? For all I knew, he had sons or neighbors or whatever who would, you know, jump me as soon as I got to his house. The part of Long Beach I live in is lovely and we don�t have a lot of problems, but most of the city? Not so much. Let�s all keep in mind that this is Snoop Dog�s old hometown, shall we? Had I driven that man home, I would have been driving him to the �hood, based on the direction he was walking.

Of course, it could be argued that this is even more reason I should have helped him. Criminals do so love to prey on the old and weak.

Dammit! Why can�t we be nice people and look out for each other without having this fear?

I feel really rotten. I should have helped him.

~~~

More later, cuz you just know I have to dish about last night's finale of America's Next Top Model.

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