Wanted: a Little Lady in a Great Big Van

So I slid into the booth at the McDonald’s playland yesterday, happy to have an hour to chat with my friends while our littlest ones played and our older kids were at choir up the street. We had been fifteen minutes late for choir and I shared with the other ladies the reason: I had tried to be a Good Samaritan but was rejected.

Here is my story as I told it, with only a few minor embellishments for special blogging effects:

As I was pulling out of our subdivision onto the highway, I saw a young lady walking along the shoulder of the road. She was headed in the other direction toward nowhere, really—well, she was heading somewhere, I’m sure, but the nearest houses were at least three miles away and there was a cold, steady mist coming down.

I sped down the road shushing my conscience, to no avail. I sighed at its insistence and turned around at the next intersection—“Kids, we’re going to be a little late”—and caught up with her five minutes later.

I slowed and buzzed down the window: “Do you need a ride?”

No response. She took a stoic drag off her cigarette and didn’t look at me.

Certain that the rain was affecting her hearing, I rolled along at 5 miles an hour and spoke up louder: “Excuse me, Ma’am? Do you need a ride?”

Still nothing!

“Well, that was rude,” said my 7-year-old presently, and I’ll admit to feeling embarrassed. Rejection has a way of doing that. I knew, though, that we had done the right thing and hoped that the young woman was thinking about what a nice older gal it was she’d just ignored as she took the next few puffs of her cigarette.

The end.

My friends were laughing and shaking their heads when Ann spoke up: “You know why she didn’t stop, don’t you?”

I didn’t.

Well, to Ann the answer was obvious: “You drive a nondescript white van.”

So there you have it. Your Minnesota Mom’s a wanted gal and all because of our big white barge! I’ll admit to being prideful on occasion, but really! Never had I thought of little ol’ me as a tricky person.

Sneaky, maybe. But only when it comes to grabbing that last fry.