I saw Writer Guy last night. But it’s not what you think.
He needed a ride to the emergency room. He called me. I briefly considered not taking him but decided that if he was in a bad enough way to call me of all people it would be unconscionable to abandon him.
I drove him, I dropped him off, I asked if he wanted me to come in, he said no, I went home. That’s the whole story.
(Except this: I was in my PJs when he called, with greasy hair and a giant zit on my jawline. Did I leap up and go to his aid immediately? I did not. After ascertaining that his dilemma was painful but not time-sensitive, I washed and dried my hair, I put on concealer, and I rejected one outfit before settling on another. This took less than 15 minutes, ’cause I’m quick like that, but I cannot avoid this truth: A guy who has shown himself to be not worth my time called me for help and I took the time to fix myself up before I gave it to him. I’m pretty sure this makes me both a) massively pathetic and b) a terrible person.)
(Oh, and: Three and a half hours later he called again. He hadn’t even made it in to see a doctor yet, it was almost midnight, he wasn’t sure when he would get out of there, the buses were going to shut down for the night, any chance I’d be up late and could give him a ride home? I said no, and I texted him some bus routes that ran all night, and I’ve felt horribly, horribly guilty ever since. I know I don’t owe him anything, not him in particular, but in general I do think that we should take care of each other, and GOD if I was at the ER in the middle of the night I would be so, so grateful for help. So, yeah, I’m pretty sure I was wrong and ugh.)