My wife and I decided to go out to eat yesterday to enjoy our last night before she starts classes again. She works full time and will be taking classes in the evening, so our time together (which already feels like not enough) is going to be even less. So anyways, we decided to go to Bazbeaux for a last meal, so to speak.
If you visit Indy, or live here and have never been, you should definitely eat at Bazbeaux. May be the best pizza in the city. At the least, we really like it. We got the garden pizza, which was great as always. My wife had to ask for the salt shaker to put salt on her pizza. I thought that was insane. Anyways, it was a pleasant meal and nothing exciting happened.
Then we were leaving and walking toward the car when a lady approached us. We had already gotten to the car when she started talking to my wife, “I like your shoes.” I’m a fairly pessimistic guy and usually think that people have hidden motives and agendas in almost everything they do. At least with strangers. So immediately I thought this lady was going to end up begging for money and was just trying to find a way to butter us up.
“Thanks, I got them at Eddie Bauer,’ my wife replied. If you ever pay my wife a compliment on her clothing, she will instantly tell you where she got them and usually how much they cost. I still haven’t decided for sure why I think she does this, but I think I have a pretty good idea. I’ve also been married long enough to know it’s unwise to write what I think it is on my blog.
If you’ve ever been approached by someone asking for money, you know that they usually try to find some way to connect with you. Our newly acquainted friend figured that Eddie Bauer would be that connection. “Oh yeah, Eddie Bauer. With them black and white bags?” My wife, who is without guile responds, “Uh, I don’t think they have black and white bags.” “Oh, yeah. Well, my name is Vicki.” She shook both our hands and asked for our names and was very friendly and all smiles.
At this point we were established friends. Then she got right to the point, “Can I get a sandwich?” This was much better than asking for money, and we really did want to help. We weren’t near anyplace that we could pick up a quick sandwich without paying like ten bucks for it. So after talking to her for a while about where to go and whatnot, we finally told her to stay where she was and we would go pick it up. At this point, we were no longer friends. She got upset and starting saying that she’d, “heard that before. Everyone says that.” We kept telling her to stay there, even as she walked away. Before getting out of earshot, I heard her say something like, “I’ll be here. I live on this street.”
After picking up a sandwich at Starbucks, we went back to try to find Vicki. We spotted her near where we had left her and gave her the sandwich. She thanked us and asked the Lord to bless us and we were on our way.
There really is no point to this story. Sorry if you were looking for one. The thing I wonder is if I'm really helping Vicki at all. Am I just encouraging her to rely on others for everything? Is that a bad thing? Am I only helping because I would feel guilty if I didn't? Does it matter in the end?
I will note that it seems like there are a lot more homeless people in Indianapolis this summer. My wife disagrees, but I don’t remember them being this visible. Not sure what that is about. I’m just thankful for what I have.
If you want to read a much more entertaining story about an experience I had with the Indianapolis homeless (and I guess I shouldn’t assume they are homeless, but I don’t know what else to call them at this point) click here to read the story. This one actually has a point to it.
2 comments:
I never liked Bazbeaux garden pizza, but the rest of their stuff is pretty awesom. Err.. awesome. With an "e."
Dude, like you couldn't just add the "e." Dunes is this weekend. Wish you could make it.
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