Felt Guilty I met a man who was in his car under the shade of a tree listening to VOA on his phone at Target retailing company parking lot at West Seattle the other day. I wondered why he cranked up his phone speakers. Without greeting, he said, The parliamentarians were dissolved for the third time. Yea, I know, I said. I was not going to talk to a stranger about anything related to politics. What are you doing here? I am waiting for my wife who is buying our weekly groceries, I shot a stern look at his face, my eyebrows knitting, some rage boiling inside of me. I immediately walked away. Inside of the store, my eyes were roving back and forth just to see the poor woman who had such stupid careless husband. A few seconds after, a pregnant woman dressed in brown Abaya between 34-40 years old was pushing a huge cart loaded with veggies, fruits, boxes of cereal, snacks and cookies, boxed water, bottled beverages, several gallons of milk and many more stuff. As I was getting closer to her, I saw how anemic, pale and fatigued she was. Mom, can I push the cart for you? No, she said, her face creasing in wonder. She gave me a cold look. She pushed the heavy cart with all her might and gimped around the other side of the aisle. I understood the pain she was going through. No matter how much she gave me a cold shoulder, I was not mad at her. I was mad at her hubby. Then I ran back to buy some coffee and green tea. Within 3 minutes, I saw the same women squeezing the stuff she bought into the car trunk by herself as her husband was busy in listening to the same station. Bye brother, the man said with a sheepish grin on his face. I once again scanned his face as if he was a prime suspect, hopped into the car and then I sped away. As I was driving my way home back, I asked myself it would be nice if I talked to him about what he was doing to his wife. I felt I did not do the right thing. I should have at least said something.
Posted on: Fri, 28 Nov 2014 09:16:55 +0000
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