help me

I maintain that my wife is one of the nicest — if not the nicest — person you will ever meet. I have often talked about and given examples of just how nice she is. She is helpful, kind, thoughtful and considerate of her fellow human — something that is a rarity in today's deteriorating society. In noting just how nice Mrs. Pincus is, I am careful to point out that I, admittedly, am not nice. I am, by comparison, the exact opposite of nice. I have nothing but contempt for my fellow individual. I am aware of how I feel and how wrong it really is, but I just can't help it. I am one of those people who could walk into a room full of strangers and say to myself: "Look at all these assholes," expecting each person to demonstrate nice behavior in an effort to change my mind. Mrs. Pincus, on the other hand, would try to figure out how she could help everyone. I defy you to find someone nicer... and before you answer, may I remind you that Mother Teresa is dead.

We live within very close proximity to several supermarkets, far more than are needed to properly accommodate the needs of the community. For the past six or so years, Mrs. Pincus has been doing regular supermarket runs for her parents. My in-laws are both 90 and their mobility has diminished in recent years. Curiously, their marketing demands have increased at the same rate that their mobility has decreased. It is not unusual for Mrs. Pincus to receive daily phone calls from her parents, asking with faux innocence: "Are you going to the supermarket today?" Of course, she will ask what they need and obligingly go to the supermarket to fulfill their request. Sometimes those requests come two and three times a day. Sometimes, the request includes a specific supermarket at which the particular item or items need to be purchased. (They like the bagels from Giant, but they like the salmon from Aldi.) There are some days where Mrs. P has visited three or more supermarkets to satisfy her parents extremely specific shopping requirements.

A few days ago, Mrs. P found herself in the produce section of a nearby Acme Market. This Acme, while closest in distance to our home, is the least frequented of all the markets in our area. They are expensive. They are poorly stocked. Their staff is less than cheerful and, after several remodeling efforts, the entire store is very difficult to navigate. But, my father-in-law asked for a very specific type of orange or lime or something that is only available at Acme... allegedly. So, his dutiful, obedient and nice daughter went to Acme.

While strolling the vast, labyrinthine aisles of Acme's produce section, Mrs. Pincus located the fruit in question and added it to her shopping handbasket. As she headed towards the check-out area, she passed a woman holding a clear plastic hinged container filled with watermelon, cut up into manageable chunks. Just a split second after they passed each other, Mrs. Pincus casually turned to watch this woman's left foot slide on something, raise up and out from under her and deposit the poor woman square on her ass on the tiled floor. She let out a pained cry as she sat splayed on the floor, surrounded by the wet chunks of watermelon that had escaped the now-opened container. Mrs. Pincus instinctively approached the woman and asked if she was all right, then cautioned her not to move. Mrs. Pincus quickly scanned the produce department and spotted a worker — a slow-moving woman sporting an angry scowl on her face. Before being asked, the Acme employee quickly — and defensively — asserted: "There's no water on the floor!" and she repeated the statement several times. Mrs. Pincus calmly  asked the employee to summon the store manager and also asked for a chair for the woman who fell. As the employee scurried off, still muttering about no water being on the floor, another employee arrived with a scooter shopping cart in place of a chair. Against her better judgement, but wishing to make the customer as comfortable as possible, Mrs. Pincus slowly and carefully helped the woman onto the seat of the scooter, first confirming that she was ready to move and be assisted. 

Firmly gripping the woman by the waistband of her pants, Mrs. Pincus slowly maneuvered her on to the seat where the woman seemed to be more comfortable, but still in visible shock and pain. By this time, the store manager appeared with a clipboard, ready to take a full description of the incident and displaying way more compassion than the "No Water on the Floor" Acme associate. Mrs. Pincus asked the woman if she was shopping alone today. The woman replied, "No." and explained that her daughter was already in the checkout line and she had just come over to pick up a forgotten container of cut-up fruit. Mrs. P asked for her daughter's name so she could find her to bring her over. The woman also began massaging her own shoulder, revealing that she had just been released from rehab, where she was recovering from shoulder surgery.

Mrs. Pincus swiftly made her way to the checkout area and located the woman's daughter by loudly announcing her name. She accompanied my wife back to the scene in the produce department, elaborating on her mother's recent shoulder surgery. The store manager had begun writing down the woman's account, asking what she thought may have caused her to fall. The manager, the woman's daughter, the "No Water on the Floor" employee and my wife all began searching the immediate area until Mrs. Pincus spotted a clear piece of plastic that had almost completely slipped under a display counter of oranges. Apparently, it was the covering of a price sign and had fallen on the floor. Its shiny finish provided the "perfect storm" of slick surface on top and bottom — sliding on the waxed floor as well as sliding under someone's foot. The store manager sheepishly examined the errant plastic square and frowned. Then he asked the woman if she would like an ambulance. Before she could answer, Mrs. Pincus whispered to her daughter that it would be wise to accept the offer. An ambulance was called. Mrs. Pincus was also asked for a statement and she offered her corroborating version of the episode. She also volunteered her contact information to the woman's daughter. Then she moved on to finish her parents' shopping order.

Later in the day, Mrs. Pincus received a text from the woman's daughter She said that her mother was taken to the hospital for x-rays. X-rays that confirmed her mother's shoulder was broken. Mrs. P offered a sympathetic reply and added that she'd be available for any further required information.

My wife asked me if I would have helped the woman who fell and if I would have stuck around and done any of things that she did.

I answered, "No, of course not."

Mrs. Pincus is nice. Josh Pincus is not.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com