Has Mrs. HM's Faith In Humanity Been Restored?

The Magic 8 Ball needs a new plastic triangle to display on its liquidy screen. "Signs Point To MAYBE." The jury is still out on Mrs. HM's humanity faith. Thursday was a good day for eternal optimists.

I was heading into the main post office to mail a letter to Genius, three water bills for the flip houses, and an annual payment to Sirius XM for music in A-Cad and The Pony's Rogue. I'd parked in the lone handicap space, and hobbled up the ramp, bracing myself on the metal handrail. 

An older woman with a gray pixie haircut started out the door, and saw me on my way across the sidewalk. She backed inside, holding the door open for me.

At the very same time, a 40-something gal with dyed black hair, looking like a once-upon-a-time rock band groupie, was approaching from the other end of the sidewalk. 

 

"Hang on a minute! I'll get the door for you!"

"Two people helping me at once! That's okay, this lady has the other door for me."

I started inside the open door, nodded at Gray Pixie. "Thank you so much!"

"You're very welcome."

Rock Groupie was now inside the lobby, headed to the double glass doors of the inner sanctum and clerk counter. "Are you coming in here?"

"No, thank you. I'm just going to the drop box here. But thanks anyway!"

Not only those two gals, but a gray-bearded man at the Gas Station Chicken Store on my next stop waited to hold the door for me as he was coming out. Of course I thanked him. 

AND, when I started in to Country Mart before I visited the post office, a late-20s guy in a trench coat, wearing a backpack, moved down the narrow sidewalk to let me pass. He was on his phone, I assume waiting to be picked up by a friend or Uber, when he noticed me. The sidewalk there is taken up by displays out front, this time pallets of firewood, and he moved down past the main entrance so I didn't have to step out on the slanting blacktop of the roadway between the store and main parking area.

Let the record show that Mrs. HM does not expect people to cater to her. Only to show common courtesy as one would to any other equal human. Just because I am lame does not make me special. These folks deserve good karma for their consideration. Even Steven, please take note!