Sunday, November 19, 2006

Once burned, twice not so shy

Three or four Saturdays ago, this young black kid rang our doorbell at 12:30 a.m. Normally, we're in bed by then but just happened to be up and in the living room watching TV. Alan answers the door, which is the first thing I wouldn't have done. I would have looked through the peephole and either ignored the guy or yelled something through the door. Alan not only opens the door but goes outside to talk to the guy, and listens to a story about how this kid's parents are fighting and they don't have enough money to get back to Odessa. Whatever. But if you know Alan, the Good Samaritan, you know that he couldn't let this kid go without doing something for him. And Alan has the kind of heart that tells him people are generally good and honest whereas I believe the type of people that show up at your door at that time of the night are up to no good, ever.

So Alan TAKES THE GUY IN HIS CAR to find his parents. Alan's not believing everything the kid is telling him, yet he still has to help somehow. I'm left at home flippin' mad and scared thinking this so-called "kid" is pulling out his knife or gun to not only rob Alan but leave him with a scar for all his neighborly behavior. Anyway, Alan finally comes back without the kid and starts feeling kind of stupid for what he did. It didn't help matters that I'm ranting and griping about all the things that could have happened and how I'd been pacing the house wondering what the hell was going on.

So I tell all of this not to make Alan look like a fool, but to get to the really good part where Alan kicks some ass! At least verbally.

About two weeks later, we go out to eat at La Bodega, not too far from our house but not a walking distance either. We go to leave and are getting in our car when this black guy walks up to the front of the car. I'm already inside with the door shut when I realize this and then realize he's approaching Alan. My first thought is, oh dear God, here we go again. Another sob story and someone wanting money. And I'm thinking either Alan's going to give him some or he's not, and this not so small kid is going to get pissed. But then as I'm trying to strain my ears to hear the black guy, I hear Alan loud and clear. He says something along the lines of "Yeah, well you told me this same story on another night at a different location about a week ago, and YOU'RE A LYING DOG." And he didn't say it with a neighborly tone of voice. It was awesome. I was in the car doing that universal sign with the elbows and fists for "YES!"

I don't want Alan to be cynical and suspicious like me, but it was cool to see him put someone in their place.

3 comments:

her said...

Go Alan!!!

I had a friend who gave her hamburger and fries to a guy with a sign on the corner. He threw it at her and said, "My sign says I'm broke, not hungry."

DeeBee said...

I've heard stories about those people where they are offered jobs and turn it down... begging is their job.

Anonymous said...

I am too nice. That is true. What's more, sometimes that fact makes me REALLY angry, because I get tired of being taken advantage of by people who do (or don't) know me. In the last few years I have started to feel like that one of my strengths is the ability to read people.

Anyway, when this guy came to the door I felt sorry for him for about 15 seconds. Then he set off my bullshit meter and I smelled a rat. So, rather than give him money I decided to do something unexpected and give him gas for this mythical car and family that needed to go to Odessa. It was a mistake to leave Tanya, but I wasn't going far (I thought). Anyway, after a long goose chase and a bunch of REALLY bad lying I wound up giving the kid $1. As my friend Joe used to say "If you are going to lie, at least get your moneys worth." Hope running around all night in the rain was worth it you dumb bastard.

Sorry, I'm still a little wound up about it. When the guy hit me up again outside the restaurant I just lost it. If you are going to lie with the same story over and over AND you can't tell one white person from another you ARE going to get yelled at - even from mild mannered accountant-types like me. I will say that I felt like a million bucks afterward, not because I yelled at someone but because it confirmed exactly what I'd thought when he'd knocked on my door. It is rare that you get to find out later that you made the right decision in dealing with a perfect stranger.