Monday, November 23, 2015

Bridge of Help

Mike and I went to see Bridge of Spies Saturday night (long but really good).

We were leaving Assembly Row movie theater heading to the escalators when a little girl, maybe six years old, wiped out at the top while her (likely) grandmother continued down with a another little girl who was about three (she seemed pretty un-phased that one kid was left behind, come to think of it)

We helped the little girl up and asked her if she was OK. "I'm scared" she whimpered about the escalator. "Would you like some help?" I asked her. She nodded and took my hand.  I counted to three and we stepped onto the moving stairs together, Mike right behind us.

In her other hand, she clutched a cute little brown-skinned babydoll. "I like your baby," I told her to distract her a bit, "What's her name?" I asked the top of her head, covered in colorful barrettes and a headband too. "Natalie" she answered.

I admired the pretty name, and counted down to step off the stairs together at the bottom. On unmoving ground she looked up and gave me  sweet "thank you!" and went to catch up with her grandmother.

It gave me a nice feeling, just interacting with such a sweet little person.

Moments later, when a woman and I bumped into each other on the street and she dropped her phone and her leftovers, a woman with her asked "What happened?"

"That lady just bumped into me!" she said in a very I've Been Treated Unjustly! tone.

I turned, surprised. Clearly neither of us where watching where we were going. I felt a slight bump against my purse but nothing so big that even required the customary "Oh, 'scuse me!" when you bump someone. Still, I turned and said "Oh, I'm sorry!"

She turned and burned holes in me with her stink-eye.

Nice feeling gone.

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