Life in L.A.

In the middle of a downpour the other night, I quickly stopped off at the store on my way home from the gym and work. As I made way to the front door, I was approached by what I was sure was a homeless woman looking for some extra change. As she mumbled something to me, I brushed her off and made my way in and out of the store. As I was pulling my car out, she came running over to me again, knocking on my window as I drove off.

I am one of those people who talks about how bad Los Angeles is, what a hellhole it has become. I save my money for the day when I can move out.

However, two miles down the road, I found myself turning my car around and going back to find the woman. To my embarrassment and surprise, the woman hadn’t asked for money, but for my time. Her car needed a jump. Feeling like a complete heel, I jumped her car and apologized a number of times.

I hadn’t been raised to leave people standing in the rain when they were in trouble. With the Lenten season beginning, it was a clear sign of my decline. It has been incredibly easy to blame others for L.A.’s problems. Now, however, I am left only to ask, what have I done to improve the state of things?

JOHN WALDRON

Van Nuys