This was one of the prompts from the official NaBloPoMo headquarters to use. While I am not really needing the prompts as I currently have about 7 or 8 posts in my drafts folders (though some are no more than a headline, at least the idea is there), I saw this one and thought immediately of a story that I wanted to put out there and eventually pass on to my kids and never got around to telling. This seemed like a good opportunity to rectify this situation.
Tell us about one time that you benefitted from the kindness of strangers.
Shamelessly stolen from King County’s Facebook page
I don’t remember exactly how old I was. 21, maybe 22. Living on Capitol Hill I would take the bus to my mom’s house up in North City (this was back when it was unincorporated Seattle, before it became officially its own city of Shoreline). I transferred in the University District, as the bus from Capitol Hill ended there and I could get the one route that went relatively close to my mom’s house – though I would still have a 15 or so block walk.
It would be well over another decade before I would learn to drive, so I was dependent on the bus schedule. If I remember correctly this was a Saturday which meant a lighter schedule, so the buses headed up to North City were infrequent. I was already late because I had missed the bus I had planned on getting from Capitol Hill and the one I did get was running late.
Maybe I was going up to babysit my younger brothers. Maybe this actually took place on Sunday and I was headed up for dinner. Whatever. Point is, I was running late and there were fewer buses running.
So I get off the number 7 in the University District and right in front of me is the number 73. And it’s pulling out. I run after it for a couple of blocks and come *THIS* close to catching up to it at the next bus stop. I was frustrated because this meant I would be even later to my mom’s house but also just mad that I wasted all that energy.
That’s when it happened. Some guy who looked like a jock pulls up next to me in his car and offers to give me a lift a couple of bus stops ahead so I can catch the bus.
I was taken aback. Jocks didn’t associate with my kind. Heck, I was the guy jocks would pick on, shove in lockers, tape to poles, dump in trash cans, you get the idea. I dumbly stood there for a second then accepted the offer. The guy said he was headed that direction for a few more blocks anyway, saw me running and nearly catch the bus and commiserated about how he had been in the same spot a couple of times. He drove me about six blocks, just ahead of the bus and I got out, thanked him and he was off.
The whole interaction took less than a minute. And from that day on I have tried to not judge people based solely on their outward appearances.