It takes a lot to make me completely morally confused, but...

Today on the way home from work I stopped at the PFCU to make a cash deposit (cash in my pocket plus boot sale season equals broke Isis). I rattled my bike over some planks that were inefficiently covering a hole in the sidewalk. As I shoved the cash into the machine I heard a shriek and a specific, sickening thunk-- a woman's wheelchair had caught in a plank, and she had gone over.  I wheeled round and started hauling the chair off her while a crowd gathered. In fact, there were so many people anxiously trying to get her righted that I backed off. She was fine, if embarrassed and surprised, and dozens of solicitous hands got her rolling again pretty quickly.

'Wow, people are so nice,' I thought. 'Maybe I'll write about this.'

I turned round to get my bike and I saw a woman backing away from the ATM with a suspiciously familiar wad of cash in her hand. I noticed red lettering on the bills, which had struck me as I smoothed them out to put in the slot.

'Excuse me, is that mine?' I asked. I wasn't sure, and very much wanted to be wrong.

'I was going to deposit it,' she snapped, and took off up Chestnut street. I thought about checking my balance, but I pretty much knew. So I grabbed my bike and ran after her. I caught up quickly, and asked again if she'd taken my money. She was pretty clearly lying when she said no, and a closer look showed me this woman was younger than I, and had a little girl in a stroller.

'I really don't want to call the cops,' I said. 'Just please give me the money back and I'll scram.'

'Don't have it. I'll call the cops on you for harassment', she said, and spat on the sidewalk and kept walking.  So I followed her, even as she ducked through traffic trying to lose me, till I was able to flag down a bike cop.

Now, I have no love for bike cops. They're the ones who have stopped me when I'm wheeling two bikes, demanding to know which one I stole. The only other time I've filed a police report (over a stolen tandem) the cop accused me of taking it myself.

And these guys were just as nasty as could be expected, yelling at the girl and threatening to take her child away until she pulled the money out of her bra and slammed it into my hand. And oh my lack of god, I felt terrible. Here I am, white, privileged, with an excellent chance of being taken seriously and helped. And the girl, who was black and probably not out of her teens and already with a child of her own? They didn't believe her for a moment. Accurately, as it turned out, but I could just as well have been wrong.

I guess I should have felt self righteous and glad to have taken action, but I kept seeing the girl's pretty face, with that terrible look of resignation and hate. I made it abundantly clear that I didn't want them to press charges and I was glad to see her walking slowly up 16th and vanishing into the crowds. I thanked the cop (how many anti-cop rallies have I been to?) and rode home with a heavy heart.

Humanity: 1. Isis' humanist faith: 0.

I'm gonna go live on a glacier.

I will stand there and survey the world and wheeze. 

Regularly scheduled cheerfulness to resume next post. 

Going to blast Laura Nyro and do some drawing. 

Faith in humanity just a bit restored. 

Isis