Doreen Gets a Ride – A Short Story

I was standing in line at Dollar Tree. I had two packages of razors, a whiskbroom wannabe, and a three-pack of tooth brushes and a candy bar. The woman in front of me was dithering and fumbling. While she dithered the check-out lady tried to get one earring to fit inside the piercing. I tried to keep my sighing to myself. My day was not going well. The older lady put her purchases in various parts of her larger purse and in the three brown paper bags she carried.

Once the older lady stepped away from the cashier, I paid for my purchases, shook my head in disgust and beat feet out of the store and got into my silver Chrysler Pacifica. I backed out of the parking space and as I put the car in forward gear I saw the older lady come out of the Dollar Tree door with a two foot rip in one of her brown paper bags where various pieces of god knows what spilling out onto the wet sidewalk.

For god’s sake I whispered to myself and drove straight across the parking lot and stopped along side the lady. I got out of the car, opened the back door and pulled out two plastic grocery bags from Winco. Once the two of us had everything gathered and stuffed into the Winco bags, I asked, much to my surprise, “Can I give you of lift?” 

The lady looked relieved and said, “Yes, please . . . thank you.” “Where do you live,” I asked. “In Ruston,” she said, “But could you make one stop along the way . . . it’s a little out of the way.” I thought to myself, “What the heck, you screwed yourself. Why not?” I spoke “Where are we going?” I knew the answer was going to Lakewood or even Olympia. “Pao’s Donuts on Sixth Avenue. I think it is five or six blocks away.” I gave a relieved sigh and said, “Never been there but I have seen the sign.” A few minutes later, we drove into the parking lot and I parked close to the door. 

I started to get out of my seat but the lady said, “I can buy my own donuts.” No words came out of my mouth so I just nodded and clicked my seatbelt back on. A few minutes later the lady came out with a brown paper bag and got into my car. “Where to next,” I asked. She smiled and said “Ruston.” “I can handle that,” I said. I drove through a back alley and then drove along the freeway behind some of my favorite business on Sixth Avenue. As I drove I hummed a little tune to myself. A few seconds later I heard her hum join mine and I could just make out her words “It’s not in the book now so you’d better write it down Just in case your love for me, should ever come around.” I sang a little louder and the two of us finished with “You might want to call and break the news to me Just call lonesome 7-7203.” We both laughed and laughed and sang the entire song again together. It turned out she had once been a back-up singer for a number of bands . . . including country western. 

I followed her directions and dropped her off at Toby Jones. She had a broad smile for me and it included a brown paper bag with two coconut donuts in it. “How did you know my wife liked donuts?” She laughed and said, “I don’t know, but I could just feel it.” “Thank you”, I said; she replied, “No . . . thank you for being so kind to a little old lady who fumbles around.” I was almost embarrassed.