Sittin’ on a Roid …

OK, I thought I was done for today and then I went to the store…Now I’ve been sittin’ on a roid for a few hours and know that in order to find some relief I have to write about the whole experience.  Remember that sitting on a roid is NOT the same as having a brain tumor…tumors are nagging thoughts rattling around in my brain, while roids are bothersome occurances that need to be removed in order to be comfortable.  Back to the roid of the day…
As I was loading my lovely Thanksgiving centerpieces in my car I could hear a man yelling, "ma’am, ma’am", it was a far away voice and I wasn’t really paying much attention until I started to climb in.  Then the voice became more urgent and loud.  I turned around very aware that I was alone in the dark with a stranger fast approaching … here comes the roid … I was nervous!  Not just nervous but suspicious as well.  Why was this guy chasing me down?  As he got closer he began shouting out that his key broke in the ignition, he needed money for a locksmith, he lived in Spanish Fork and just wanted to get home…blah, blah, blah.  And then the roid grew bigger … because we all know he was lying!  Was he or wasn’t he?  I really don’t know.  If the guy is down on his luck and needs a few bucks I’m happy to help.  But is it really neccessary to make up a long contrived story to elicit my sympathy?  I don’t think so.  Anyway…I reached into my wallet, pulled out a five and as I handed it to him said that I hoped he really did need the money, I didn’t care what for, just that I hoped he was being honest.  Ohhhhh, Freak OUT!  I can’t believe that I actually said that!  On the other hand, I am bothered that I even wondered whether he needed the money or not.  I suppose it’s because going along in my life I have truly believed that honesty, even when it’s tough, is better than lying.  Now here I am in my forties (although I certainly don’t Look THAT old), suddenly  finding out that people aren’t always on the up-and-up.  I know what you’re thinking…I do… you think, "how dumb can she be?"  perhaps my naive ways are what has sustained me for so long … as Icky Guy (see post from a week ago) happily pointed out to me, "You are such a Pollyanna."  Hence the roid … Did I hand over the money to help? Or did I hand over the money to get away?
WHEW, the world (and I) may never know the truth, did he or didn’t he, but at least my roid has been excised.  Thanks for letting me vent. Tongue out 

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