The other day, we here at The Rhodester Chronicles were headed down into the train station at Civic Center and Scary Larry the homeless guy, who’s called Scary Larry because he’s pretty scary looking, was offering to help this pretty young blonde, who was anything but scary looking, down the escalator with her bag.
She politely fended him off with reassurances that she had it under control, to which he replied, “Are you sure? Because I don’t mind helping!” but she seemed to know he really wanted a tip out of it plus he’s scary looking, so down the escalator she went, balancing the bag and the little suitcase she was pulling.
We’d gotten on a few steps in front of her and couldn’t help but notice that she really WAS having a problem with it, so now that we were halfway down to the station and Larry was out of sight, we asked her if we could be of help.
“No, I’m fine.. thank you” she said, a mere second or two before the bag slipped from her grasp and went crashing down at our feet. We hoped it wasn’t her mom’s Christmas present we heard breaking in there.
She gave in and accepted our offer, so we hoisted the bag and made our way to the BART gate, where we saw her off because we were grabbing MUNI to go to Safeway. She was going to San Francisco airport on BART to catch a flight out to visit her family over the holiday, which we’d figured from the luggage.
The point is this.. we here at The Rhodester Chronicles are quietly slipping into our golden years, and subsequently, we seldom get taken up on any offer of help if it’s a pretty young blonde. Older women, yes (she was about 22) and guys of any age, yes.. but seldom women around that age because they must think we have some kind of sinister plan or they’re just not comfortable with it, or whatever.
Doesn’t matter though, we’ll always offer to help if we see a damsel in even the slightest bit of distress, and it’ll be up to her to take us up on it. Do you think, though, that maybe we shouldn’t be calling them “damsels?”
Comment, bitches..
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