Worked or Good Works?

So I'm going to try to give some better updates on here seeing as how I haven't had too much to say in several months (on this venue I mean).

I was a little bit behind on laundry last night. Why is that after you go on a trip, it takes so long to get your bag unpacked and get the contents washed? That's always the case with me... I come home and set down my roller bag, and I don't know why, but it's just "hard" to get it unpacked. Usually goes a day or so I think. Besides, I'll typically do a big load of laundry just before the trip, so I always have some clothes when I get home. Anyway, I went to West Palm Beach for a work thing last Saturday - Wednesday, wasn't proactive in unpacking my roller bag, and approached Friday evening with nary of pair of clean blue jeans.

I started getting hungry on Friday evening, as is wont to happen, and decided to go to Publix to procure some food stuffs. I really like their chicken wings in the deli. They do a "mardi gras" flavored wing which is unfried, but has a really good flavor. Felt like a good Friday meal. Since I had no clean non-semi-formal pants (and I don't wear shorts outside of fishing or swimming situations), I decided to re-dress myself in what I wore to work that day; a blue button down shirt, black pants, and my black cowboy boots.

I park in a space very close to the store and start to walk inside. I look up to see a white pickup truck in the parking lot driveway just off to my right. The truck comes to a stop and it sounds like the transmission was placed into "Park". I think to myself "Don't just park in the middle of the &$^#% driveway" and feel my blood pressure spike, so irritated am I by discourteous driving. A woman exists the driver side of the pickup truck and walks up to me. "Excuse me", she says. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"I'm from out of town. And my credit card just got eaten by the ATM machine, and I'm trying to make it home....."

She continued talking while my mind drifted to the question of why people like to say "ATM machine." Being that "ATM" stands for "Automatic Teller Machine" you're basically saying "Automatic Teller Machine Machine." It's like "PIN number" or "A/C current".... I don't know why I always notice things like that, and I always kick myself when I slip up and say something along those lines myself.

The woman, who looked to be in her mid 40s, thin, short blonde hair, french tipped pedicure, and thick southern accent went on to tell me how lost she was and how she just had to get back to Thomasville (in very south Georgia) and "call daddy" and now she didn't have any money and didn't know where she was and just wanted to get home and could I help?

Then she said something that you don't hear much. "I'll pay you back, I mean, if you have a card or you can just give me your address..."

I guess she said "card" first because of how I was dressed.... And probably why she approached me in the first place. Not that I mind.... Hey, if I'm going to dress like a "business man", I'd better expect to solve problems.

"OK," I said. "I don't have any cash on me [which was true, I like to leave my cash in a disorganized stack on the countertop, makes me feel like a gangsta(r)] but I'm just going to go in here and pick up some chicken for dinner, I'll get some cash at the register, and you can meet me back here in a second."

"Bless your heart" she said in that southern drawl that came out like "hahwart".

As I walked into the store I wounded to myself why I chose to include my purchase in this new Plan of Action? I mean, did she really care that I was going to buy some chicken? And to think, if all I was going to buy inside was a case of beer or pack of toilet paper, I probably would've omitted it entirely. Was I so excited and happy to eat Publix chicken for dinner that I felt it necessary to drop that fact into conversation? Have I fallen that far?

When I was wondering to myself about the "ATM machine" remark, I heard her say something about $30 or $40. I figured I'd just pull out $40. That should be what she is looking for.

Walking out of the store, I saw the white truck dutifully parked next to my car. "You are such an angel" she said as I placed my bag of chicken (which turned out to be an entire bird, unknown to me at the time. Most of it is still in the refrigerator as I type this, it was a lot of bird, but let's be honest, I doubt I'll finish it, probably like you're doubting that I'll finish this sentence that I started) on the front seat. I didn't have a business card on my person, and had to chuckle internally because I'd thought earlier in the week that I should start carrying one or two in my front pocket just in case. I figured that I may have a card in the center console of my car, since sometimes I'll pull a card out of my front pocket when I'm driving to write something down and sometimes I don't write anything and the card ends up in the console. And sure enough, I did have one.

"Thank you so much," she said, the thankfulness in her eyes. "I'm just so far away from home and didn't know how I was going to get back...." Her voice broke a bit.

"Oh, it's no big deal," I said, handing her her my card and two twenty dollar bills. "Do you know how to get back to the interstate?"

"No, I sure don't. I've just been driving around..."

"OK, well, it's really easy. Just come out of the parking lot and turn right. That's Roswell Road. Just follow Roswell a couple of miles and you'll run into I-285. You can't miss it. Get on I-285 west. It'll be a left turn. Follow I-285 for a couple of miles and you'll hit I-75. I'm sure you know what to do from there."

"Yay-es, thank you again, I'll mail this back to you tomorrow I promise."

"No problem, have a good evening."

While I was talking to her I noticed that the truck had one of those "special" Georgia license plates that doesn't list the county at the bottom. I know my Georgia geography pretty well, and was kind of curious to see if the car had a south Georgia county on the plate. We parted ways and I was stopped at the redlight at the end of the parking lot attempting to turn left onto Roswell, I looked up to see the white pickup truck had exited the parking lot at the exit without the redlight, and turned left. I was sure that I told her to turn right and even pointed that way when I was telling her.

So that made me wonder. Would I ever see my $40 again? Could've been that I just got worked. This isn't a great economy, haven't you seen CNN? You figure that kind of thing is on the rise. Maybe she didn't approach me because I was dressed in customer contact appropriate apparel (per the Amica intranet) and presumably liquid, maybe she approached me because I looked like a mark. Maybe her accent thickened when she heard mine. Maybe she figured I'd be mentally tired on this Friday afternoon (after all, I was dressed in work clothes, it was after 7:00pm and I was quickly walking into the grocery store when she saw me). Maybe she figured I wouldn't ask too many questions.

But you know, I don't believe that. I think she really was in a bad way and needed some help. And I was happy to give it to her. So she turned the opposite way that I told her to. She was still heading in the correct cardinal direction and if you drive around Atlanta long enough, you'll hit an interstate anyway.

I fully expect to see an envelope containing $40 in cash or check on my desk at some point next week.

Until I do though, I guess the question will be: Worked or Good Works?