Down the coast with Dana Parsons

It’s getting harder all the time to be a Good Samaritan. Not long ago, a dashing and thoughtful gentleman (OK, it was me) had finished dinner with an out-of-town friend and was returning to his car in the parking lot of an Irvine retail center.

I noticed a middle-aged woman unloading items, including golf clubs, from the back of her sport vehicle. I asked if she needed help and she said no, quickly adding that the steering on her vehicle had conked out and that she needed to call someone for a ride home. She was emptying the trunk to take the valuables with her.

Always on the lookout for ways to help my fellow citizens, I volunteered to give her a ride. “I don’t even know you,” she said, good-naturedly.

“I don’t know you either,” I said.

She was very pleasant, not the least insulting, but made it clear she wouldn’t be taking any rides from strangers on this night. We continued talking for several minutes, and the news somehow escaped that I wasn’t married and that she’d be happy to introduce me to some of her girlfriends. Introduce me to her friends but not accept a ride.

I didn’t want to meet her friends; I just wanted to do a good deed. For some odd reason, it annoyed me even more to find out she lived within a couple of miles of me, making the imposition on me next to nothing but potentially sparing her friend the hassle of leaving home at 9:30 at night to come pick her up.

Yes, I get it. I didn’t blame her for not wanting to roll the dice after dark in a stranger’s car. But while she retained her peace of mind, I lost something — the chance to exercise a basic human desire to help someone out of a bind and want nothing in return.

For some odd reason, that bugged me all the way home.

Comments

[Anne]

This should not bug you. As you write, you were just trying to do a good deed, and you did. But she was absolutely right no to get into a stranger's car late at night -- no matter how nice the stranger may seem.