Talking To Strangers

Given my past, I tend to be wary of strangers. I'm not an uber-friendly girl to begin with – I don't like chatting up strangers in the store or making small talk at the doctor's office. But especially when I'm alone, my guard goes up.

This morning, I thought I was out of stamps so I stopped at the post office near my work. It has one of those fabulous tellers that just does what I want and doesn't talk to me at all - the automated machine sort. It comes in especially handy because I'm never "out" when the actual post office is open. So I can mail packages, buy stamps and the like all in the lobby.

I quickly purchased my book of stamps and turned to an older man walking in. He looked a little confused and asked if I knew how to get priority postage with the machine. This is where my siren started going off. Didn't Ted Bundy get his victims acting like he was hurt/confused/lost/etc? Also, where was his car? I didn't see any new ones in the lot. I warily agreed to help – making sure I never fully turned my back to him. I guided him through the automated service and showed him where to put the letter when he was done.

Then he turned to me and said, "Thank you so much! I really had to get that mailed today and didn't know if I could use this thing! I really appreciate it!"

I walked out to my car and after I got in (and was For Sure safe), I watched him clean up his wrappers. A smile spread across my face.
Lesson: Don't let your street smarts talk you out of helping someone in need.