The Tardy Samaritan

Finished with my business at the outdoor shopping mall, I got in my car and sat there for a moment, contemplating my busy night ahead. I stared idly, when I saw something.

This guy and presumably his girlfriend got into it by a bench on the perimeter of the mall. Flailing madly, he shoved over a very heavy trash receptacle while she gesticulated in turn. He then looked like he was about to turn his violence on the girl. She cowered, turning away from him and scrunching up her shoulders defensively as he lunged closer, barely restraining himself from something truly regrettable. Something inside of me very, very nearly snapped.

I coolly watched him pace around the bench like a wild animal and finally storm off, taking the outer mall sidewalk north. She sat on the bench, clearly rattled.

Had he assaulted her, I knew I would have had to run him down. I was more than willing. As it was, he took off, and I watched her crying on the bench for a while as ignorant passers-by wondered why the trash can was on its side.

I put my car in gear and sat at a stop sign while I considered.

She had her phone, so I figured there was nothing to really do about it. None of my business, so move on.

No, fuck that.

I took a right, slowly driving past her, pretending not to be checking out her status. I continued on, slowly, getting a good look at the would-be-assailant’s demeanor, physique, and age. The couple was Latino, about my age, and the guy looked pissed off and muscular. In my experience, people with his physique are formidably strong but also overconfident and often slow and not very agile, telegraphing their moves far in advance. Still, I lamented my absence of a decent training regimen, and stoically accepted that if I ever have to do something, I have to do it, regardless of whether victory or defeat is assured. It’s not courage—it’s intensity. It’s not chivalry—it’s necessity.

So I decided I was going to loop around the mall and go back to the girl and at least offer her a ride anywhere she needed. The guy was twirling his keys, so I assumed that she was stranded. If he cooled his jets and came back for her later, he’d find her gone. And that would potentially be a great inconvenience to him, which would be proportionately appealing to me. So I decided to loop around and go back.

I reminded myself that for all I know he could have just found out that she cheated on him or something, thus making her the bad guy. Assume nothing. Nevertheless, I knew only what I saw, and I am so sick of jerks getting away with stuff. I often blog about it, and I think you should know I’m not just blowing off steam. I’m serious about doing something about it. My problem is always timing.

As it was here.

From the north entered two police cars in the mall parking lot, just as I arrived at a three-way stop. Which meant I was lucky enough to be sandwiched between two Round Rock police officers, which did not appeal to me because I have had two recent run-ins with them for such silly crimes as jogging at night and having a Missouri license plate. So I turned into the side lot, giving the cops a head start. I suspected there was no coincidence, that these were my guys…

I was right. By the time I circled around the mall, the girl was gone and I saw an officer by the tipped trash can speaking with someone in a minivan, possibly a witness. I sat behind the minivan for a moment and considered getting out to talk to the officer, but I decided I didn’t want him getting onto me for illegal parking, so I found a space and came back.

The officer was walking back into the main walkway area (whatever you call it) of the outdoor mall. I tried to catch up to him around the corner, but he was gone. I shook my head at how ridiculous this effort was getting to be.

“So much for being a good Samaritan,” I thought. “Son of a bitch, you have to be quick to do a good deed.”

So I picked up the trash can. It was all I could do.

Then I looped around the mall again, thinking about how much work I had to do later, when I saw, on the far side of the mall, an officer speaking with the girl. Aha.

I parked and approached the officer, humbly offering my witness account, freely saying that it wasn’t really any of my business. Turned out to be just a marital spat, no harm done. But you never know. I told the officer that I fixed the trash can, and he thanked me for stopping by.

It was all very weird. Nobody picked up the trash can? I had to do it? Come on, people.

But it got me thinking about how you never know. You never know. You never know what’s going on with the people around you. You never know who’s about to snap. You never know who’s a threat to whom. You never know where and when it’s safe or not. My little bubble was burst, the reality nagging away at me, the reality that I shouldn’t have fallen out of a solid training regimen, because I’ve lost something.

Actually, I may have lost a lot of things. I’ve lost confidence, I’ve lost balance, I’ve lost strength, timing and flexibility, not to mention technique. I’m a fool to allow myself to be a victim of fiscal circumstance—I should be training whenever and wherever I can, not waiting for the ideal routine that allows the same place and time. Waiting for convenience, lamenting how chaotic my life is.

But one thing I did learn is that I really am a man of integrity. Integrity to my own ideals, to all of the things I often insist upon. To stand up for what I perceive as “right,” I was perfectly willing—and even eager—to potentially get my ass kicked. Instead of feeling timid about taking on a stronger opponent, I was more regretful of failing to meet my own standards. My intensity is intact, if not my good sense of timing. In a way, that’s a mark of success, a positive self-realization.

So I know I am not just full of shit with “all this budo stuff.”

Yet at the same time I feel like a failure. Complete and total failure. I didn’t do anybody any good today. I haven’t even done myself any good. I’ve been a worthless piece of shit failure at so many things lately.

Where did I go wrong?