I try to be as independent as I can be, but we all need help sometimes.So, if by chance I inconvenience someone, I try my very best to make it up to them with words, deeds, gifts, or return favors. I'm sure you'd do the same. It's just common courtesy.
And yet today, when I found myself stranded with a flat tire--completely stuck at the Reading Hospital--there was not only no one available by phone (for I had called my parents and several other people), but there was also someone who couldn't be bothered with the inconvenience of helping me.
This this boy, who shall remain nameless for his own protection, had been bugging me for three weeks to let him use my gift certificate to the Taj Mahal. It happens to be our favorite restaurant, and since I happened to mention to him that my student teacher gave me a gift certificate as a thank-you when he departed on May 1st, this particular dude has been adamant about us going there to eat.
I probably should have just mailed the damn certificate to him because that would have made my life much easier. But instead, I just assumed that his real reason for the dinner date was for us to get together as pair of friends who would catch up over good food and have a nice time together. In other words, I assumed he wasn't using me for a free meal. Moreover, I assumed that the friendship we have shared for two years meant something to him.
So when he called me up this afternoon and asked that we go to the restaurant tonight, I gently explained that I had errands to run and a very sick friend to visit in the hospital, but that sure, we could go this evening after I got back.
He didn't want me canceling, he warned, and he wanted me to get there as soon as possible since he was bored. So I even shaved a few tasks off my to-do list so as to be as prompt as I could with everything. I was inconveniencing myself in order to be more considerate of him, but friends do that for each other, right?
No sooner did I make it to the Reading Hospital (which is just 20 minutes away), I found myself staring at a flat car tire there in the parking garage, a nail intrusively puncturing the rubber. It was as deflated as flat tires come.
Instinctively, I called my father. But my parents were unreachable, both at home and on their cell, and then I vaguely began to recall that they had left to go on a road trip or something today.
And so I called my hungry friend, apologizing as I explained my trouble to him. Could he please come pick me up? He didn't even have to change my tire if he didn't want to. We could just leave it there, and I'd come back to pick it up on another day with my dad. But, please, would you at least come pick me up?
He hesitated.
Then he began to calculate out loud how much time he'd be losing. It would be 15 minutes from his house to my place. And then 20 more minutes to Reading. So we're looking at 35 minutes, only to have to do another 35 minutes for the drive back. And then, after that free meal at the Taj Mahal, he'd have to cart me back to my apartment. What an inconvenience.
"Why don't you just ask a nice blue collar worker that walks by?" he suggested. "I'm sure one of those would be happy to do it."
Yes, he was suggesting that I trouble a complete stranger to whom I could never repay the favor, rather than rely on him to whom I could return the favor in double proportions and for whom I have already done so many favors.
The arrogance of his question is disturbing on many levels, but perhaps the most disturbing feature is that he suggested it a normal, happenstance kind of voice, the kind that's devoid of humor and which shows that his perception about this type of person is so deeply rooted in his psyche that he is not even cognizant of the offensive arrogance that comes with such racism. No, indeed, it has never crossed his mind because he thought himself to be just the opposite, but comments like this pop up enough times in his everyday language that I have taken notice of it.
So was he going to pick me up?
"No, sorry," he said. Silence followed. Did he really just say that he would rather sit at home than come rescue a friend? Yes, he did. Because then he said, "Don't worry; I'm sure you'll get home eventually."
"Well, then, don't expect to be having dinner with me tonight," I snapped.
"Of course not, silly. You have your car to tend to," he replied.
I promptly hung up on him.
I placed several phone calls, trying to find SOMEONE who could come get me, but no one seemed to be answering. Finally, I called him back.
And, as I began to tell him how I couldn't believe his selfishness and forgetfulness for the many, many times I have done favors for him (which happened to include when I picked him up and drove him and his friend to the Reading Bus Terminal a few months ago), he interrupted with an anger. "Fine. I'll get something off my chest right now, then. Do you want to know what's causing me to hesitate, Lisa?"
I told him that I couldn't imagine anything that could be bothering him so much that he would actually CHOOSE to leave me stranded like this. But I listened."The real reason why I'm hesitating is because I don't like the whole 'damsel in distress' motif that is going on here."
Can you believe it?! He didn't approve!
This boy has only done ONE favor for me in the 2 years that I've known him, and that was lifting a desk for me last summer. Was he arrogantly suggesting that my call for help was unattractive and unappealing to him? I hung up on him again.
I guess I could have attempted to change the tire myself (even though I was wearing a white sundress), but I don't at all trust my arms. There's no way I could screw those bolts on tight enough with these little muscles, if they can't always get me into a jar of applesauce. I'm sure the tire would pop off as soon as I'd get up to 20 miles per hour.
This experience in faux friendship was incredible and surreal. Later, when it was too late to be useful, he texted the following message to my phone: "if u still need hlp, call me in 5 min. Case closed." I had to chuckle that he put a time limit on it, so as to be on his terms. He had already had his opportunity to do the right thing, and that boat had sailed long ago by this point.
I finally made it home tonight, thanks to the money I had in my wallet and the kind, old bearded man from K&J Towing who had a car jack and the right tools. He put on my spare tire, and I drove home, safe and sad.
