Sunday, February 26, 2017

Busted!

Busted! So, I'm heading in to start my ambulance shift. I'm one of those "servant" types who care about people, saving lives, yadda yadda yadda. I'm compassionate towards the sick, unfortunate, injured, homeless, you name it, I care about them. On my way in, I start a Right turn at a light, just as a homeless couple start across the intersection. I'm pretty sure they're homeless because I can see at least 4 layers of jackets and sweaters that they're wearing even as the day has turned a bit warm. They're both wearing backpacks and look like they've been . . . well . . . sleeping under a bridge. The couple starts across the intersection so I sit and wait. They're not very fast. I wait some more. Then the guy stops. He goes back a step or so, bends down, and picks something up off the street. Seriously??? Can't he see that I'm on my way to do life saving humanitarian service for the good of all mankind? That is one arrogant homeless dude for sure! I honk my horn. He's blocking the intersection for what? Did he find a nickel or something? Fortunately, my conscience kicked in and accused me of being the arrogant one. They finished clearing the intersection and I drove on through, on my way to some serious service for the good of mankind. Other than my conscience bugging me a bit, I'm no worse for the wear. Just a distraction. A couple of days later . . . I'm out for my brisk walk -- 2 miles, or three if I have time. I get the "walk light" at that same intersection. As I'm crossing, just about in the middle of the intersection, an object catches my eye. I look down and see a screw -- a drywall screw. Drywall screws were scientifically designed to tip up as a tire rolls across, guaranteeing a puncture that won't show up for a couple of days, at 70 mph on the highway. So, I stop, pick up the nefarious booby trap and then move on. I only held up traffic for a moment but it was worth it to keep someone from getting a . . . . And now, I'm wondering why I honked at that guy? My own self righteous arrogance slapped me right in the face!

Lessons From My Dad