One of those awkward moments May 14, 2008

Were you ever in a parking lot or mall or something, and you saw someone who clearly needed help but you weren’t sure whether it was your place to offer the help?

There’s a woman my age (I almost said, “girl my age” but let’s face it, my “girl” days are long gone) who lives across the way from me who’s had a limp for the last two months. Originally it was in a cast…I think…but at the very least, she’s had issues walking. We don’t know each others names, but we talk almost every day, share niceties, etc.

So I’m at Lucky (local supermarket formerly known as Albertsons) with the kids, just buying a few extras and we’re loading up the Tracker right by the front door of the store. As I’m putting the cart back, I see Nameless Woman With Limp hobbling past us, carrying two seemingly heavy bags.

My first inclination was, “Wow, that sucks.” Then I thought, “Should I offer her a ride? I know she’s going back to our complex.” But I didn’t act immediately. It seemed weird. She obviously walked here and knew she had to walk back. She meant to have this walk.

Then I realized that she may not own a car. So I inhaled sharply to pipe up and offer a lift. But nothing came out of my mouth except an exhale. At this point, I had to semi-bark for the fourth time at Beth to stand up so I could lift her out of the cart, and when Woman heard me say, “Beth! Stand up!!” she turned around, recognizing my Mama Bear snarl.

She stopped, lifted the left bag slightly as if to test the weight of it, silently deciding whether it was too heavy to haul the half a block back to our place. Then she heaved a big sigh and continued on her way. Now anyone, I’m sure, worth their salt would have called out to her at this point. But I didn’t. What if she didn’t want a ride? What if she thought to herself, “No, I was told to get exercise, to work out my leg and strengthen it. I will not ask for a ride.”

Also, I don’t know her name. I secretyly call her the Homeless Gnome because she always seems to be outside someone’s apartment, but I’m not sure which one she calls home. So what would I yell? “Hey, you with the limp!” or perhaps just, “Want a ride, Gimpy?”

AND…I just really don’t know her and I had both of my kids with me. May not be a smart idea if she’s secretly a homicidal freakshow!

I know she’s not.

Ah, I hate that awkward feeling. Now I may possibly be known complex-wide as the rude bitch who didn’t offer So-And-So a ride.