Friday, 27 January 2012

Being Picked Up

I stopped off at the local supermarket for a few items my mother wanted. At first the bags felt OK to carry but then they got heavier. Then I thought to myself, why am I struggling when I can ask for help?

"Thank you for carrying the bags for me!"

The moment I had the thought, I noticed a car driving towards me. Then the car stopped. (I reckon if this was a movie, the car wheels would have screeched for dramatic effect). The driver wound down his window and called out.

As I was walking back towards him, I wondered whether he was lost and needed help.

"Hello, how are you?" he said looking me up and down.

"I'm fine, thank you!"

I vaguely recognised him as someone I've said hello to before.

"Where are you going?" he said.


I mean, where else would I be going with shopping bags, to a night club?

"Where do you live?" he said.

"Just down this road," I pointed.

"Hop in and I'll give you a lift!" he said.

"I'm alright. Like I said, I only live down this road."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, thank you!"

"OK, see you tomorrow then," he said and he drove off.

The reason why I didn't accept my friend's lift was because I had picked up from the way he'd been checking me out that I was being picked up; and I wasn't up for it.

I did find our brief encounter such a pick-me-up that I was flying high and the bags felt light; and the rest of the few minutes walk was effortless.

Thank you, Universe, for doing everything...when I remember to ask!


Related articles: Postal Delivery; Carrying Myself; Reverie; Being Taken For a Ride