I went to the gas station tonight. Barkley came with me since it was a short trip and he LOVES riding in the car. He does the typical doggy with the head out the window thing. And I love that. But I digress.

I get out of the car and start pumping the gas.  A car pulls up next to my car and the driver starts talking to me.

“Excuse me, Miss. We’re on our way to the hospital. My friend here’s wife was in an accident. We’re just trying to get to 75 and 15th so he can see her.” Meanwhile, he is pointing to a spiral notebook that he has in his hands. He even glances at it when he is telling me the address of the hospital, clearly indicating that he isn’t used to heading out that way.

“If you could help us out, I just need some gas to get my friend to see his wife.”

This is what I said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t have any cash to give you. Good luck, though, sweetie.”

This is what, after thinking about it for a minute, I wish I had said, “Gee, your friend’s wife has some terrible luck. Just last month when you approached me in the Wal-mart parking lot, you told me that she had been in an accident and that you needed gas then too to get your friend out to the hospital down 75 at 15th. Hope your friend has some good insurance.”

I am a nice person. I like to help people out.  I am not, however, a stupid person.