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TODAY'S MESSAGE
It had been years since I'd participated in one of those market research things where "qualified" folks (they never tell you why you qualify, or don't) gather and weigh in on a product or service, but I recently received a phone inquiry. I recognized the agency as legit. By some miracle, I wasn't frazzled for time, so I answered a bunch of seemingly random questions.  I qualified! (YAY! I LOVE giving my opinion!) They said they'd pay me $75! (Double YAY! But then, a pause) "But the group you qualified for is already full," said the voice on the line. "We'll keep your name on file." I hung up, far more disappointed than any normal human should have been.
A couple weeks later, they called again with a last-minute opening in said group, which was meeting two nights from then. They seriously had me with "...and we serve refreshments." The location, new to me, was only about a twenty-minute drive; the event started at 8 p.m.. I learned I'd qualified because I was an AAA member. Just in case I needed to know, I asked George how long we'd been members. "Since we took the boys on that 6,000 mile driving vacation." For realz. He said he'd just run across the TripTik from 1979. (This explains a lot about the too much in our house.) Finding the place wasn't easy in the pouring rain. The building was near the very back of a maze of business buildings, all closed for the day. The multi-adjoined lots were dark, rambling, and nearly empty. At last, I checked in (the second participant to arrive), took my seat and watched the rest of the dozen or so folks file in. I am so ready for this lively exchange and fun! I thought. At 8 p.m. they asked the "following participants" to follow them. They read everyone's name in the room but mine. They all filed out; I waved my hand at the name reader. She flagged me back in my seat, said she'd be right with me. After everyone else was settled into wherever they went, she told me they always overbooked, that I wasn't needed, but that they'd still pay me the $75. Once again, I was far more disappointed than any normal human should have been. I was invested. (You know, the TripTik� info and all.) When I exited the building into the dark parking lot, not another soul around, it was still raining. I phoned George on my cell to let him now I'd be home early. Just before I hung up, I saw a man walking toward my car. Where on earth did he come from?! "Hang on, George." I locked the car doors and cracked my window. The guy was drenched; he wore no coat. "Would you mind giving me a jump?" he asked. "I have cables, all hooked up. I work right over there for AT&T," he said, pointing way across the lot, "but everyone's already gone for the night." "George, did you hear that?" George starts to tell me he doesn't think this is a good idea. The guy, looking like a drowned rat, pleaded with his eyes. I told him I was on the phone with my husband. Hey, pal, I've got backup! After trying to asses whether or not he looked dangerous (seriously, as if ...), I make a snap decision. I'm going to do this, but I'm also not going to hang up. I nodded my approval. He took off running toward even a further corner of the lot, not a lamp post around. I gave my choice a second thought, but started the car and headed that direction. I lost sight of him for a moment, then through the rain saw a vehicle with the hood up. The guy already stood there with the jumper cables in his hand, holding them like the forked tongue of a wicked bad snake!  "George, do not hang up!" I started to pull my little SUV nose-to-nose, then thought, I need to get the guy's license plate number, in case I don't make it home. Just when he leaned toward my hood, clips open, I reversed, leaving him looking quite foolish. He shrugged his shoulders in a questioning gesture. Rain dripped off his nose. I hollered out the window, "I'm giving my husband your license plate number." He laughed, I read the plates to George and pulled back into position. The guy clipped the cables to my car, jumped into his, turned over his engine, unhooked the cables and thanked me profusely. And away he went.
I've thought often about this episode. There are two ways to look at it. 1) When I read George the plates, the killer/rapist/kidnapper figured he'd be toast if I didn't return, so he pretend jumped his car and left. 2) OR, God can go to a lot of trouble to get us to the exact location at the precise moment another of his children needs help. Having myself been the recipient of countless and wonderful random acts of kindness, I choose to believe the second. In this day and age of "stranger danger," sometimes seeing another human in need can be a call to action, a chance to be "qualified" to be a part of what is right with the world rather than always fretting about what is wrong. For the record, I also wished I told the guy about AAA. After all, we've been members since 1979! |
