Close call
I've had a terrible Monday morning, all told.
For starters, it was freezing cold this morning. My bathroom isn't heated, so my naked body was all cold and vunerable while I shaved. My hair product was so cold it clumped together and turned my fringe into a 'white gloop' paradise. And to top it off, I pulled my work shoes out from the cupboard and discovered that I must have stood in dog shit on Friday, and it was still clumped to the sole. Because I had to scrub it off, and get enveloped in that special dog turd aroma in the process, I caught the late train - which stops all stations, and made me late for work.
So my morning break was pretty welcome. I strolled across the street to 7Eleven to get a green tea. Walking back across my work's quadrangle, I noticed an old lady just had a fall, so I jogged across to give her a hand up. (That's 'helped her to stand up', those of you sniggering in the back.) She was so thankful, and helping her gave me a little bit of a warm and fuzzy.
And then it stuck me.
Not 50 metres away from my work is the site of last Monday's shooting, where one person was killed and two people were wonded. Two of the victims were simply passing by on their way to work, and stopped to help someone who was in trouble.
It was at that point that I broke out into a cold sweat, and a thought hit me like a sledgehammer. Ohmigod - what if that old lady... had a gun?
For starters, it was freezing cold this morning. My bathroom isn't heated, so my naked body was all cold and vunerable while I shaved. My hair product was so cold it clumped together and turned my fringe into a 'white gloop' paradise. And to top it off, I pulled my work shoes out from the cupboard and discovered that I must have stood in dog shit on Friday, and it was still clumped to the sole. Because I had to scrub it off, and get enveloped in that special dog turd aroma in the process, I caught the late train - which stops all stations, and made me late for work.
So my morning break was pretty welcome. I strolled across the street to 7Eleven to get a green tea. Walking back across my work's quadrangle, I noticed an old lady just had a fall, so I jogged across to give her a hand up. (That's 'helped her to stand up', those of you sniggering in the back.) She was so thankful, and helping her gave me a little bit of a warm and fuzzy.
And then it stuck me.
Not 50 metres away from my work is the site of last Monday's shooting, where one person was killed and two people were wonded. Two of the victims were simply passing by on their way to work, and stopped to help someone who was in trouble.
It was at that point that I broke out into a cold sweat, and a thought hit me like a sledgehammer. Ohmigod - what if that old lady... had a gun?
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