Wished I had taken the ride.

I was offered a ride yesterday. And didn't immediately know it. Because when I'm walking, and someone stops his vehicle, and starts talking to me, I automatically assume he wants directions. And I start my spiel. That I don't speak Italian. That I'm an Americano. Well, this guy was persistent. He kept talking to me. In Italian. And I thought he was asking directions to a grocery store a mile or so down the road. And I started pointing. Go straight. Then take a left. When suddenly, I recognized the guy. He's a clerk at the grocery store. And he recognized me and thought I needed a lift. He hand-patted the empty seat next to him. And motioned me to get in. He'd take me as far as the store. Instead, I started jogging in place. To indicate that I'm out for exercise. And that I wanted to walk. And he got the message. But I was thinking. How nice. For him to stop. And offer me a ride. Almost felt like I should take the ride. And wished I had. So that I could thank him. More profusely. --Jim Broede