Thursday, March 31, 2011

Please stop helping

Walking down Lexington Avenue, I saw a blind man - evident from his white cane - trying to hail a taxi.  He was on the sidewalk, arm in the air, but no cabs were stopping for him.

I offered to help, and he eagerly accepted.  I flagged a cab, brought him safely to it, and asked if there was anything else I could do.  He sweetly declined, and we parted ways.

Feeling pleased with myself, I resumed walking.  Immediately, a truck began honking at me.  I looked at the driver, who shouted: "Hey, do you know that guy?  Is he your friend?"

"No," I replied, "why do you ask?"

"Well, he just whacked his head getting into that cab!"

I whirled around to behold a terrible scene:  The blind guy clutched his forehead, face twisted in anguish.  The cabbie stood next to him, immobilized with fear and horror.

Meanwhile, traffic was speeding by.  The blind man's cane had fallen into the street, and now it was being repeatedly run over by cars.

It was horrible.

So what did I do?

I fled.  I just spun around and got the hell out there. 

A few months later, while job hunting, I came across an opening at an organization serving the blind.  I decided not to apply.  I think I've done enough, don't you?

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