i like to help people in difficult situations, and for some reason, i especially like to help people i don't know and will probably never know when i see them in difficult situations. sometimes, though, initially this makes the recipients of my kindness uncomfortable. they question my motivation. what's my angle? i can see it in their eyes, sense their trepidation as they consider my offers of assistance. the men keep their hands on their wallets, the women gain a little tighter grasp on their purses. somehow, though, they allow me to help and i'm gone. no names exchanged, no reward accepted, no more problem. good stuff.
i don't have a lot of friends. like 'love', the word 'friend' gets thrown around too much. i have many acqauintances, people whose company i truly enjoy. people i find interesting and compatible. people whose paths i cross sporadically and with whom i enjoy a beer and some lively conversation. these people are potentially friends, but frankly, you don't know who your friends truly are until after the defecation hits the oscillating rotation.
I am outgoing, reclusive, and ambivalent.