You know how sometimes you encounter a person who is so nice that it almost makes you a little bit sad?

For example, a few weeks ago I had a flat tire. Sadly, although I consider myself extremely independent, the first thing I do in any car-emergency type situation is to call Brad.

(Before Brad, I always called my dad to fix these things. "Dad? Hi, it's me. I ran into this car, and kind of smashed it up, just a little. What do I do?"

"Dad? Um, I forgot to put gas in my car this week. It's, uh, not working now. Can you pick me up?"

"Dad? My car's engine just exploded into smoke and it's stranded on the side of the highway. What? When was the last time I put oil in? Um, I don't know - whenever you put it in, last year or something. Or maybe that was in 1999. What, am I supposed to remember everything?")

I noticed that my tire was flat in the parking lot of the supermarket, on my lunch break from work. Immediately I picked up my cell phone and called Brad at his job. He answered the call sounding worried, because I never call him at work. I told him that I had a flat tire, and that (even though I've probably had 8 flat tires in my life and I know perfectly well what needs to be done) I didn't know what to do.

"Change the tire," he said, as if that were a perfectly reasonable thing to say. The dead silence I responded with must have said it all, because he finally sighed heavily (with only a slight trace of irritation, because he is a saint), and came across town to change my tire.

However, this story is not really about Brad. This story is about the little elderly man who walked up to us while Brad was busy doing stuff with the crowbar and the car jack and the tire and that other smaller funny tire in the trunk, and I was busy standing around, looking at the sky with my hands on my hips, trying to think of small talk that would make my irritated boyfriend laugh.

This little man came walking up and said, in a slightly shaky voice, "Oh no, do you have a flat tire, young lady? Is everything okay?" I smiled at him, surprised by his kindness, and told him that I did, in fact, have a flat tire - but that everything was being taken care of. "Oh, well that's good," he said, "because if you needed me to, I was going to offer to take it to the gas station and fill it up for you."

See? That makes me sad, just thinking about it. It makes my throat a little tight, and I have to blink a couple of times, really quickly. Why is that? Why does an encounter with someone who was genuinely kind make me feel all touched - and slightly sad?

No, it wasn't because the mental image of this little man struggling with my big heavy tire made me feel guilty about asking my boyfirend to drive across town, just to fix something I was perfectly capable of fixing (in theory). Or maybe it was, in a general way. When was the last time I did something that thoughtful, that didn't benefit me in some way?

How many people that I know well would do something kind for a stranger, on the spur of the moment? Not many, I don't think. Brad would. I've seen him do sweet things for random people before, like take back a woman's shopping cart for her because she had a baby in the car. My mom would also. I remember her driving to KFC to get food one time for a man who asked us for money on the street. (The man did not seemed thrilled when she returned with the food, by the way. Maybe he was vegan?) My mom, my older sister, and old roommate all save stray dogs, all the time, on a weekly basis almost. That counts.

Have I done anything like that lately? Well, there was that time last month that I gave the man on the street corner a dollar, but really just so that he would give me a copy of the "Austin Homeless Advocate", not just to help him buy KFC, or vegan food, if he so desired. (He took my dollar and walked off without giving me the paper. Damn it.) But other than that, it's been a while, since nothing else comes to mind.

My excuse is: hey, the opportunity nevers arises. What am I supposed to do, sit on the bench at the mall, wait for people to walk by with wallets falling out of their bags, just so that I can return them? Is it my fault that random strangers never need my help? Maybe it is my fault, though. Surely the opportunity arises, maybe I've just trained myself to tune out things that are not relevant to me. That's kind of sad.

Well, whatever the reason is, I guess it's time for a new resolution for 2004. If it were a bumper sticker, it would read: Practice random acts of kindness. (That's goooood. I should market that.)

I'm think I'll start by watching MTV, and giving Jessica Simpson the benefit of the doubt for once. After all, the newest issue of Texas Music magazine asks us all to give her chance.

Lucy loves you |