Unintentional Acts of Kindness

 

Leaving the pharmacy after picking up my prescription the other day, I noted a decent-sized hunk of frozen slush just behind the front tire.  You know how that builds up, right?  And if it gets bad enough, and if it gets cold enough (which it was on this day), it can actually interfere with steering.  

Oh the joys of winter driving.

It was odd because I really hadn't noticed it with my previous errands, and hadn't even been driving around all that much.  But there it was.

So before getting in, I took a good kick at it, feeling only slightly remorseful that it would mean leaving a bit of a mess behind once I pulled out of my parking spot.

As I mentioned, it was particularly cold on this particular day.  Wind chills were down around -20C.  So the collection of slush was really quite attached to the wheel well.  My first few whacks did nothing.  I had to turn around and go at it with the heel of my boot.

Now, whenever I do this, I am aware that my lack of precision and finesse in the particular skill of backwards boot kicking, combined with the deep freeze temperatures usually associated with the need for such an awkward maneuver, runs a high risk of damaging the van itself.  It would be a shame to get the slush knocked of successfully only to require some needlessly expensive body work.  

Even so, I was really going at it.  That hunk of slush didn't stand a chance against my violent persistence.  And it was working!  There was that first little break off bit, and then, finally, that satisfying slide-and-smash of all that had built up under the vehicle.  Yes!  And no denting or cracking or any other incidental damage to report.  Yay!

Now to the other side.  But first I thought I'd unlock the door and just put down my purse and little stapled bag of legal drugs.  

And that was when I realized - this wasn't my van.

In my defense, we drive a black Dodge Caravan, as does clearly half the population of K-W.  No joke!  Now that I've mentioned it, you'll notice black vans everywhere, including of course if you happen to be driving one, for which there is at least a 50% chance that you are.  And if you are, if you own one, you know.  Black vans everywhere.

Just like this one parked right next to my van just outside the pharmacy.

Upon realizing my mistake, my first reaction was a quick startled jump backwards, taking my hands OFF the door handle and holding them up in the air.  Then there was the furtive, frightened looking over each shoulder to see if the real owner, or anyone else, had observed anything I had been doing to what I now understood was NOT my property.  

It seemed like no one had witnessed my little show.  The coast, as they say, was clear.  I backed away nonchalantly and pretended like everything was fine, just fine, nothing to see over here, just me heading to my own van which I do own and have the key fob for right here, never mind.  

There were no frozen hunks of slush on my own wheel wells.  On the van that I actually drove there.  But I couldn't help but notice that the other side of the van I had just <ahem> ministered to was in a bad way with it.  More than what I had just mistakenly knocked off.  Oh the temptation to finish the job!

But I didn't.  Just drove away shamelessly, leaving a mess behind in that other black van driver's parking spot, and that big hunk of slush still frozen on the other side.    

And that's it.  Just a little fun story today  Except to say, perhaps, that, by and large, I would recommend intentional acts of kindness, random or otherwise, anonymous or otherwise.  

Probably better that way.