They're OK, Maybe I'm OK

I wasn't sure how well I was going to deal with the incident that happened to me last night. To be honest, I can be a bit of a misanthrope, and exclamations such as "I fucking hate people" roll off my tongue pretty easily at times. They don't seem to give a damn about me, so I'm sorely tempted to tell them all to go fuck themselves. I tossed and turned in bed last night, and I've been in a foul mood today.

Fortunately I got a little test this afternoon, an in retrospect, I feel good about how I reacted.

I was walking down the street, on my way home from voting in the primary. A pair of kids rode by on their bicycles. Seconds later, I heard a clatter and a short cry behind me. I turned around to see that the girl had fallen, and was sprawled on the tarmack with her bike. I didn't hesitate; I trotted back to help her. And when I saw that she wasn't moving, I ran, principles of first aid racing as quickly through my head.

It turned out that she wasn't hurt badly... just lying still before she risked moving. As I helped her get up, she winced at some injuries, but assured me that she was OK. I loitered briefly to make sure that she really was, and she thanked me. So did her brother or friend. (A few passing cars also stopped, which helped to support my often-shaky faith in others' goodness.)

So it's good to know that my altruistic instincts are still intact. And I should add that the two kids here were (like the ones who randomly attacked my car last night, and the adults who brushed me off when I asked for their help) black. A fact which had no impact on the fright I felt at seeing her lying there. But the thanks I received from them did help to compensate for the apathy I encountered last night, reminding me... chiding me, really... that most people aren't all that bad. Including me, I guess.