OK, I’m going to preface this anecdote by saying that I work out every day, so I can lift some heavy stuff for a girl. Just to keep in mind for when you’re reading this, is all.
Yesterday I was standing in line at the grocery store behind an old-ish guy who was buying a bunch of heavy stuff. And by old-ish, I mean he may have been a strapping man in the height of his youth, but now was skinny and spindly in an old guy way, with skinny legs, wiry little arms, and really bad breath. He was buying, like, a case of water, and one of those big bags of dog food, and he didn’t even bother taking it out of the cart so they could scan it. I actually recall thinking "wow, how’d he get that stuff into the cart in the first place?" Because you know, he was spindly, and didn’t look like he could lift alot. Is that wrong to say?
Anyhoo, I got to the parking lot and it turned out he was parked right next to me, and was still transferring all that stuff into his car as I was getting into mine. And, because as I mentioned above, I work out and consider myself buff, I swear I was thisclose to asking him if he wanted help getting his stuff into the car. I didn’t, though– I stopped and reconsidered. And here’s why: I think maybe it’s bad enough being a spindly old guy who’s struggling getting a bag of dog food into the car, and it would be even WORSE to be that guy and to have some girl come up and be all "Hey, can I give you a hand with that?"
So, I passed right by, got into my car, and left. I think I did the right thing. Of course, he might have really needed help, and he might still be there. Who knows. I suppose no one is immune to the indignities of aging.