Wednesday, 7 May 2008

The tale of the good samaritan

This morning I was running late (mostly because I turned my alarm off when it woke me up this morning instead of snoozing, and promtly fell asleep again, whoopsy daisy) and had to wash my hair and add some interesting bits to my plain pasta for lunch and have some breakfast before I left the house, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah.

Yeessss doing all of the above the night before would be infinitely more sensible, thanks mum, but quite frankly / to be honest / at the end of the day / the thing is.... I just cannot be arsed. Way too much effort - such sensible activites do not fit with my evening schedule; commute - swim / gym - dinner - book - bed, or, in the more realistic sunny day scenario: commute - pub - gin & tonic - chat - crisps - home - dinner - bath (substitute for swimming) - bed.

So yeah... I was running late, the parking space was further away than I would have liked, had usual slow drivers chugging along at snail mph, got to the station, grabbed a Metro, made a dash for the stairs up to the platform.

"Excuse me" came a voice behind me

By this time I'm hairing up the steps like a Zanzibar greyhound, sunglasses hanging off my nose, metro in one hand, lunch in the other, bag on shoulder - all the while trying to maintain that summery girly look I'd left the house with - slightly unsuccessful on that count I think, but nonetheless, I stopped and turned around.

At the bottom of the stairs was a lady with a (huge, surely that size isn't necessary for such a small thing) buggy, housing admittedly quite a cute looking baby and she was like "Can you help me get it up the stairs" - of course I obliged, thinking 'If a train comes now I'll be fooked'. And sure enough...

We get half way up these stairs and I hear a train pulling into the station on my side of the platform. But I tell thee - it's not easy - this baby and buggy was quite heavy and I couldn't exactly go "Oh excuse me, that's my train" and hop off. But then I thought god, if I miss the train she'll feel really bad and I'll have to do the old 'Oh no! Oh nono, don't worry about it! Really, no, it's fine, I wasn't going to get on it anyway!" and perhaps get a train in the opposite direction to prove my point.

Likewise I couldn't really 'up the pace' as it were and take two steps at a time, so there was this excruciating moment where I knew my train had just come into the platform, she knew my train had just come in, and yet we were still humping up the stairs avec buggy, baby and kitchen sink (or so the weight felt).

One step to go. The train doors have been open for a few seconds. Not long to go. I notice that the next train is in 10 minutes.

"Quick! Hurry - isn't that your train?"

And I act all surprised like 'Oh, what train? Oh! That one! Ooh yes! So it is!" ' and abandon the buggy and make a run for it. Get on with seconds to spare, arrive in seat hot, bothered, flustered and looking generally red. Also puffing a bit.

Not a very interesting story, but testament to the fact that will power alone WILL keep train doors open if you try hard enough. And you should always help a woman up the stairs with a buggy, even if it makes you late and even if the weight is more than giving a leg up to 100 obese gorillas.

I am a good samaritan, fact.

11 comments:

Hannah said...

Heh. No good deed goes unpunished. Hope you awarded yourself an extra gin and tonic for the niceness.

Skinny Girl said...

You are a very good samaritan.
Lots of people would have let the poor woman struggle on.
I'm glad you didnt miss your train though!
S X

theperpetualspiral said...

Well done! Most people would have just ignored her completely.

Homer said...

Good girl. Are you *sure* you're a Londoner?

rosiewishes said...

Aw, good for you!

I actually *offered* to help a scouse lady get her huge buggy up a flight of stairs the other day. The ungreatful bitch grunted No at me, and nodded her head in the direction of a friend, without a single word of thanks! So I'm taking a Good Samaritan holiday until I feel less bitter (or until I'm out of Liverpool and away from scousers).

Reluctant Blogger said...

Good for you. In my buggy toting days I generally found it was only men who ever offered to help.

London-Lass said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
London-Lass said...

I can pull Good Samaritan and Bad Samaritan (if that term exists) at will -- depending on my mood and how my day is going. I've had people (sometimes elderly) bark & waft me away when I've offered help and this experience (coupled with, say, a long day of office stress) can make me avoid definite moments when someone might need help -- i.e. old lady doddering hesitantly at bleeping pelican crossing, young mother just about to approach escalator with fully loaded pram, etc. Although you can count on me if you collapse on the street in front of me. (as long as I've had a good day at the office beforehand of course)

PS : Glad you didnt miss your train.

PPS : This is almost like Sliding Doors .. cept without the ne'er do well boyfriend shagging away at your flat. Wonder if somewhere there is another Jo who didnt make her train and is angrily blogging about the bitch that held her up?

nuttycow said...

*pat on the head*

You're very good Jo. I'm also quite good in the fact I tend to offer on my way up the stairs and then hope against hope they say no :D

Miss Understood said...

Ain't you just lovely!

Lapa said...

Yes, She is!

 

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