The pizza incident
As I made my way home from fitness dance class, I saw a man falling haplessly on the paving stones outside the main entrance to his apartment building.
— are you OK?, I asked
— yes but the PIN code doesn’t work, he said, meaning to the door
— Do you need help getting up? I asked
— I live here, he responded now slowly getting on his feet unsteadily
He’d dropped his pizza, box lay upside down on the ground. And the plastic containers of sauce were spattered on his wallet and his phone which he’d also dropped.
He looked about to fall again, I asked
— Can I pick your stuff up for you?
— No, he replied, but you can hold the door for me.
He managed to gather his stuff, but I took the pizza and handed it to him
— this still looks edible, I said encouragingly
One hand on the door frame, he took the pizza in his hand and I saw then that his arm was incredibly muscular.
— take care now, I said as we parted ways
And with thoughts of the ruined pizza on my mind I went home
I am thinking about it still.