A story about a parking lot

A few weeks ago, I finished a late-evening workout at the gym and was returning to my car when I noticed a woman repeatedly setting off her car alarm and acting very frustrated. I walked over and asked if there was anything I could do to help. It turned out that she'd put her car into alarm mode somehow and couldn't figure out how to turn it off and so was stranded in this parking lot. We called her son, who apparently knew how to turn off the alarm, and then waited for him, not so very long, talking about life in Arizona, about the challenges of raising teenagers.

I tell my mother this story, and she tells me what a good person I am to have lended help in this way. Maybe, but I don't think that's it.

I tell my sister this story, and she tells me how creepy it is, hanging around people like that, the woman could have just waited for her son in the gym lobby, it being open to the wee hours of the night and all. And while I hope I'm not a creepy person, she's right, that would have been a fine solution to the problem of waiting alone in a parking lot at night.

But here's where I think it's at: that wasn't the problem being solved. Sometimes you just need someone to talk to.