When I graduated from high school I wanted to become a psychiatrist. Generally, I’m a person people feel safe sharing their secrets with, a never-met-a-stranger type, the kind who start conversations in the check-out line or the waiting room. Although sometimes naive and a little heavier on book smarts than common sense, I tend to be a problem solver by nature.
Sometimes my desire to fix things creates interesting results, like when other customers at Ross ask me questions. Since I’m the one picking up and rehanging clothes from off the floor while the actual employees sit by the dressing room and look disdainfully at shoppers who emerge from the dressing room for the third time without finding a pair of jeans that fit (a hypothetical situation, of course), it’s an honest mistake.
Yesterday my fix-it tendencies combined with general lack of social inhibition almost got the best of me. I was in the parking lot at Wal-Mart when I saw a couple pull their cart, loaded with a brand new Sanyo TV, up to their car. First the man tried to load the TV in the back seat, but it was just too big. Then he tried the trunk. No dice. That’s when I thought, “Wait! I can help!” My van, the 15-passenger model most often seen as church buses or cargo vans, can haul a sleeper sofa or a queen-size mattress, box springs, frame, and headboard.
At this point the man rips open the box and his wife starts pulling out the Styrofoam packing. Before you know it the TV has been loaded in the back seat, the box is left behind in the cart, and they drive away. That’s when I started getting tickled thinking about my first impulse: that “I can fix it” moment. Can you just imagine me going up to these people saying, “I know you don’t know me, but would you like me to load up your nice new TV–the one you just purchased with your tax refund–and transport it to your secluded home on the outskirts of town surrounded by woods and large barking dogs? Trust me. I’m here to help.”
I think I need a keeper.