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like many days
Sep. 11th, 2010 11:20 pm.
My calendar is still showing September 10, but when I went out and saw flags at half mast outside a fire station, it didn't take me long to realize why. Nothing unique about my morning, or going out to look for a CD I never found.
As I left my parking space near the library, somebody was at my passenger window, asking me if I knew where Strong Hospital was. I didn't, but I had a map that would do it, and told him to open the door. And so it began. First he was needing a ride to the hospital to be with his daughter, but then he was giving me way too much life story and corroborative detail, and something about a taxi and a police officer (last name Prince) who would back up everything, and he had to get a third form of ID for the hospital, but he'd have to wait 45 minutes for that, and if I couldn't wait, well, just a couple of dollars and Officer Prince would verify everything. Okay, I said, let's talk to him. He repeated elements of his earlier story, including the cab driver who had clipped him, but he could get the money back if he could collect a magic jewel... I mean, a work ID, and get to the castle before the ogre... I mean, get to the hospital really soon, or he would lose his daughter. The princess. Caseworkers. Single parentage. Three-time loser.
I said I'd drive him to the workplace, a few blocks away. On the way there, he offered more details and expounded on my kindness. We got there, and there wasn't anybody there. I declined to lend him money. Two other times, I'd been suckered this way. They both started with someone getting me to stop, and led to ever-increasing tales of woe and hard luck, and protestations of gratitude and the insistence that I take a piece of paper with a name and number on it so I could let them repay me. I declined to furnish pen and paper as well. I said I could take him to the hospital or leave him there, and those were the choices. He stood in the parking lot and said he would lose his daughter. He looked as sad as he could muster in the couple of seconds it took me to leave.
I drove homeward, glad to be shed of him, and worried to the extent (2%) that his story might have been true. Too much detail, and every time I gave him a chance to verify some of it, nothing there.
Later on, we went to Pittsford Celebrates, a small municipal midway between the library and the Erie Canal (in the library parking lot), where Sarah and Zach (from the house behind ours) went on rides (all free) and bickered like siblings. After they took turns going up the rock wall, I went up too. I'd never done it before, and I made it pretty quickly up to the top, to my surprise. Home for a while, and then we went back and watched the fireworks, delayed a bit by home-town tributes to the events of nine years ago, mostly on the other side of the state. Sarah wanted to be held, so I hoisted her up until her head was even with mine, and she gave me a kiss. After fireworks, which we almost walked out on because Sarah kept arguing with Zach, we dropped our guest off at his house and I read to Sarah while she fell asleep. I hoped I was right about that guy. I wouldn't want someone to lose custody of his kid just because he looked and sounded exactly like two scammers who got about $5 off of me a few years ago.
.
My calendar is still showing September 10, but when I went out and saw flags at half mast outside a fire station, it didn't take me long to realize why. Nothing unique about my morning, or going out to look for a CD I never found.
As I left my parking space near the library, somebody was at my passenger window, asking me if I knew where Strong Hospital was. I didn't, but I had a map that would do it, and told him to open the door. And so it began. First he was needing a ride to the hospital to be with his daughter, but then he was giving me way too much life story and corroborative detail, and something about a taxi and a police officer (last name Prince) who would back up everything, and he had to get a third form of ID for the hospital, but he'd have to wait 45 minutes for that, and if I couldn't wait, well, just a couple of dollars and Officer Prince would verify everything. Okay, I said, let's talk to him. He repeated elements of his earlier story, including the cab driver who had clipped him, but he could get the money back if he could collect a magic jewel... I mean, a work ID, and get to the castle before the ogre... I mean, get to the hospital really soon, or he would lose his daughter. The princess. Caseworkers. Single parentage. Three-time loser.
I said I'd drive him to the workplace, a few blocks away. On the way there, he offered more details and expounded on my kindness. We got there, and there wasn't anybody there. I declined to lend him money. Two other times, I'd been suckered this way. They both started with someone getting me to stop, and led to ever-increasing tales of woe and hard luck, and protestations of gratitude and the insistence that I take a piece of paper with a name and number on it so I could let them repay me. I declined to furnish pen and paper as well. I said I could take him to the hospital or leave him there, and those were the choices. He stood in the parking lot and said he would lose his daughter. He looked as sad as he could muster in the couple of seconds it took me to leave.
I drove homeward, glad to be shed of him, and worried to the extent (2%) that his story might have been true. Too much detail, and every time I gave him a chance to verify some of it, nothing there.
Later on, we went to Pittsford Celebrates, a small municipal midway between the library and the Erie Canal (in the library parking lot), where Sarah and Zach (from the house behind ours) went on rides (all free) and bickered like siblings. After they took turns going up the rock wall, I went up too. I'd never done it before, and I made it pretty quickly up to the top, to my surprise. Home for a while, and then we went back and watched the fireworks, delayed a bit by home-town tributes to the events of nine years ago, mostly on the other side of the state. Sarah wanted to be held, so I hoisted her up until her head was even with mine, and she gave me a kiss. After fireworks, which we almost walked out on because Sarah kept arguing with Zach, we dropped our guest off at his house and I read to Sarah while she fell asleep. I hoped I was right about that guy. I wouldn't want someone to lose custody of his kid just because he looked and sounded exactly like two scammers who got about $5 off of me a few years ago.
.
