Good with the Bad

I had an experience yesterday that left me with what could be argued as the textbook definition of mixed feelings.

I was putting some gas in my truck yesterday afternoon, right after picking The Little Girl up from after-school care. She was in the passenger seat, and I was standing next to my truck watching the numbers go up faster than I'd like them to. I tossed around just using the cash I had on hand, because I wasn't filling up; that's budgeted for Sunday. I just needed a little. Damn, only $6. That won't get me far in a 400-horse Tundra. Okay, then. Keep the cash for breakfast tacos and coffee, put $20 on the Magic Money Card. Alrighty, then.

I was leaning up against the truck right around the time that I'd normally look on the other side of the pump, around the truck, and then around the parking lot. As I'm watching the numbers go, a guy appears damn-near right in front of me, right between the gas pump and the big column. I snapped to as he very briefly explained that he was kinda stranded and needed some gas. I took just long enough to assess him, his girlfriend who was approaching but 10 feet on the other side of the pump, and a quick way out. I put both hands in my pockets; one on my keyfob to lock the truck, and the other on my wallet.

I was coming home from work, and was not wearing a gun. Fuck.

He didn't get any closer, so I pulled my wallet and backed away from him some. I pulled out the cash I had, handed it to him and said, "Here's six bucks. That oughta get you somewhere. Take care." He accepted it, thanked me, and turned to his girl as they walked away.

*********************

So, mixed feelings. I felt pretty good. Normally, I don't have any cash on me. When I do, it's usually my lunch money for the week (that we budget carefully, else I'll go nuts and have a coronary when I see how much I spent eating out at the end of the month). I didn't think about the rest of the week, or the tacos that I'd miss. I just handed him what I had because being stuck somewhere sucks. I gave him enough for a couple gallons of gas which, in the little car they were driving, oughta get 'em a pretty good way, provided they aren't aiming at L.A. or something. Yeah, I felt pretty good.

I also felt like a fucking idiot for leaving myself wide open to get, well, whatever he might have been there to give. I was caught completely off my guard. If he'd had trouble on his mind, and half a mind to plan it, he could have bum-rushed me before I could have even locked my truck. God only knows how far that could have gone, or what I could have done to defend myself.

Well, that won't be happening again. Eyes open, head out of the clouds. It ain't just me that's counting on me.



tweaker