On Sunday morning, I went to the Glen's Market in Grayling for some provisions. When I got back out to my car, a woman in an old, rusting hulk of a Lincoln pulled up and asked if I could do her a favor. Well, sure, why not?
She told me that she had severe back problems and asked if I could go in and get her rutabaga.
"You want me to buy you a rutabaga?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied. "It's hard for me to walk and I don't want to go in if they don't have any."
I wasn't in any hurry, so I went into the store again and found the rutabagas, which are thought of as "winter vegetables" for a reason. The ones Glen's had were pulpy and covered with black splotches. I figured the lady could cut off the bad spots, so I got one (76 cents out the door). I returned the woman's car and held the bag with the 'baga out for her.
"What's that?" she asked.
"The rutabaga you wanted."
"I asked you to check and see if they had an Amiga. It's a motorized wheelchair, and I need one because of my back problems."
Oh. I must have seemed like a moron, and I was about to reinforce the impression. I went back to the store, looked inside the lobby, and saw that two Amigas were free. Back at the lady's car, I told her this and received a perplexed look.
"I need you to bring me one. It's a lot easier for me if I don't have to walk inside to get one."
Ahhh. On the way back in, I tossed the bag with the rutabaga into a trash can, and felt ready to dive in after it and hide. It took me a couple of minutes to figure out how to operate the Amiga, and I ran over my foot once in the process. Once I mastered the controls and walked it out to her car, I left it near her door, waved, and got in my car as quickly as I could.
I seldom indulge in self-congratulation about good deeds, but I left this encounter innoculated against it entirely. Embarrassment has its uses.
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