I stopped by the post office today (after being gone for a week) and ended up with a few more packages than I expected. Instead of leaving a few behind so I could come back later, I started trying to load them all into the stroller. I pulled Zoë out and replaced her with a box of wine. I stuffed the undercarriage with four boxes in a configuration Tetris aficionados would be proud. Then I balanced one box on top of the canopy. The last box I'd have to hold under my right arm while I balanced Zoë on my left hip and held June's leash in a combo grip with the stroller handle.
A gentleman coming in as I was leaving asked if he could help. He offered to grab June and the box I was holding and help me get down the ramp I was failing to navigate.
"Thank you so much. If you can just get us down this ramp, I'll be fine."
He followed me down and asked where my car was. I explained I was walking home, but it was only a block and I'd be totally fine.
"Don't be ridiculous. Let me help you. My dog is in the car, so let's stop, I'll turn on the AC and then I can help you get home."
Having a stranger follow you home in Mojave isn't a decision my husband would approve of, but I couldn't turn down his generosity.
He checked on his dog, grabbed the box of wine and two other boxes so I could put Zoë back in the stroller and then said, "Lead the way."
On the way home he told me about his job, his wife, his commute to LA and the notion that he had done a good deed today so karma would allow him to be a jerk the rest of the day.
Thanks, Mojave.
