I was at a restaurant today and a man was at the bar. Old, decrepit, and not as one might say 'all there.' He was, however, loud and angry. He sounded his impatience with the waitress with a series of bellows.
"Helloooooo!" He would moan quite a few decibals higher than anyone else in the restaurant.
One thing seemed particularly odd, though...the old man was bleeding all over the place, and no one seemed to care or even notice.
Then a girl got up from one of the tables, a young woman of about twenty with shoulder length dark hair. She walked up to him and asked him he needed help. I immediately felt a sense of relief, knowing that with her intervention, help would soon be on the way.
It took longer than I thought it should have taken for someone to pick up the phone and call an ambulance for the old man, but I felt better with each passing moment, because with every question the girl would ask him, to which she drew no coherent response, she became more dedicated to managing his plight, even attending to his wounds with paper towels.
He had two gashes on the back of his left harm. They appeared to be self inflicted.
Within five minutes an army of paramedics swarmed the tiny corner market, police and firemen among them. For what it was worth I found it rather comical that they had moved a batallion to the aid of a grumpy, confused old man who probably needed less than five stitches, but it was compelled into action by the simple consideration of one girl who thought enough to reach out and help a stranger.
Good on you, whoever you are. It made my day.
See you on Facebook! starliper.corey@gmail.com
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