Tuesday, May 18, 2010
A young man (who I'd never before met or even seen) approached me in the parking lot this afternoon wanting to know if I could do him a favor. "What kind of favor?" I asked.
"I live on B___ Rd. Can you give me a ride?"
"I can't give you a ride. I don't know you."
"I'm a nice guy."
"And if you were an axe murderer planning to chop me to bits I'm sure you'd tell me."
When I got inside my daughter asked what he wanted. "That's weird," she said. "If he can walk over here, he can walk back."
That is weird. I'm glad my daughter recognizes that.