A Dying Breed

It was my turn to bring water for my league's tennis tournament today. At the grocery store, I bought a 24-pack of bottled water and a 2 gallon jug of more water. When I arrived at the courts, I did not want to leave my car unattended while I carry one water pack and then go back for the other. So, boldly and somewhat foolishly, I decided to carry both in at once.

Tennis racket on my right shoulder, purse on my left, the 2 gallon jug on top of the box encasing 24 12-oz water bottles. This is when I start to realize my decision may have been more on the foolish side rather than bold. Nevertheless, I continued with the task.

I struggled across the parking lot and a man passes by. I was obviously having a difficult time. I stumbled over cracked and uneven concrete; yet, somehow, I regained my balance without dropping anything.

This man says to me, "You alright? You got that?"

Before I could even muster a response, this man kept on walking.

Why ask a question when you don't intend to wait for an answer? Did he even have to ask? I clearly needed assistance!

What happened to "gentlemen"? Is chivalry such an ancient practice now?

As I carefully place the water items on a table, I look back at the man who made me realize that the time of gentlemen have elapsed; they are a rare and dying breed.

If any of you happen to come across one of these specimens, consider yourself blessed; cherish that moment, for it may be your last.