Is everything OK?

I had such a good time at my eye appointment. Learned something (Guess who has a Mittendorf dot in her right eye? It’s me! I do!), made what could be a fabulous new friend, and got 2 (yep, 2!) pairs of glasses. I shopped while I waited and found new things I absolutely needed, then came home to find a package. Such a good day!

Arriving home, I checked email (my day was so good, I didn’t miss email. Wow) and received 2 pieces of advice for increasing my odds of sleeping tonight. Intense exercise that might exhaust me and red wine which might relax me. I nodded along – each was logical, though at this point someone could say, “Put on your prettiest dress and shoes, go in the front yard and dance around the tree counter-clockwise three times. You’ll sleep great.” I’m pretty much ready to try it.

The ‘dance around a tree’ idea, by the way, is what Uncle always says when asking if I’ve celebrated the equinox. I also nod solemnly and say, “of course.”

I’m interested in sleep generally, and I’ve heard that exercising too close to bedtime can sometimes make falling asleep more difficult. So I decided that leaving around 6:15 for a jog was most appropriate. I’d go for 30 minutes, shower, then relax. If I fell asleep at 8, fine. If it took me until 10, that’s OK too.

I put on shoes and socks, smiled at the bouncing puppy – thrilled with the idea of 2 walks in one day! – put in the earbuds for my iPod (which hurt. Do the earbuds hurt your ears? Anybody?), pulled my hair back in a loose ponytail, admired how lovely I looked in my new glasses, then headed out. It’s beautiful here – mid-60s, sunny, cool breeze. Perfection.

Which I was about to mar by jogging. I don’t jog as a rule – I’m much more a walking person. But I didn’t think walking would fit in the ‘exhaust yourself’ category, so jogging it is. It better be freaking good advice, I thought as I started to bounce down the street. I was cheered by 2 things – 1) I can see so well in my glasses! It’s absolutely amazing. 2) Since jogging isn’t part of our normal routine, Chienne was filled with joy – bouncing and looking up at me happily, reaching around to grab her leash in her little mouth so she could tug as we moved along.

So we’re jogging, right? Heading down one hill away from the lake because houses are being built that way and I’ve heard the blasting. I’m curious so I wanted to see what was up. Unusual route, unusual pace, unusual eyewear. But it’s going pretty well.

There was a boy – perhaps 12 or 13, pretty big – walking about 150 yards ahead of me. (You all realize that I have absolutely zero ability at judging distances. Had anyone been with me, I would have said 150 yards, and they would have looked at me like I was the biggest moron alive. I’m always really wrong.) (Yes, I know 100 yards is a football field. When have I ever been on a football field so that it’s a good reference?) (The point is that he was pretty far ahead but I could see him. OK?)

There was another boy – around the same age, maybe younger, but it could have been that he was smaller in stature – riding his bike. Bike Boy stopped to talk to Walking Boy in the middle of the road. They stood for a moment, then Walking grabbed the handlebars and pulled. Bike held on, but didn’t look overly concerned. Walking then picked up the front wheel and tried to dump Bike off. He was unsuccessful, and I frowned disapprovingly as I got closer. Someone could get hurt. Silly boys and your roughhousing.

Then Walking grabbed the back wheel and figured out he should tilt and wiggle the bike, making it too awkward for Bike to stay astride. Then Walking got on, leaving Bike clinging to the handlebars. Nobody had yelled or even spoken loudly – my iPod wasn’t on that loud. But now I was next to them. Taking any excuse to stop jogging, I slowed to a walk.

“Are you guys OK?” I asked, looking all old and responsible in my new glasses.

“Yes, ma’am.” Said Walking with a smile, now firmly seated on the bike next to his smaller counterpart.

“No.” Bike said softly as I looked at him, tugging sharply on the bike, which had no effect at all. “He’s taking my bike.”

“Oh.” I said, twisting my mouth. What the hell do I do now?

“Are you taking his bike? It’s not nice to steal.” (Yes, that’s what I said. I’m not good at situations like this! And I’d been jogging! I was off-balance.)

“It’s my bike.” Walking told me. “He was just riding it.”

“It’s my bike!” Bike said.

And this is when I walked away. Remember how I’m useless under pressure? I am! I had no idea what to do. So let’s go over what we know, shall we?

1. I don’t know these kids. I’ve never seen them, though they were probably part of the massive line that came through last Halloween. But I didn’t even have a feeling on who to trust – I felt Biking had more of a case, but that was just because I saw him with the bike first, thus equating possession with ownership.

2. I didn’t want to get hurt. I haven’t ever been faced with physical danger when completely alone (or at all, really. I have never been hit in my life.), and thought of how it would be pretty bad if someone tried to terrorize me as I sat, awake and alone throughout the night, in my neat little house.

3. There was no way to tell who was lying. Nobody around, no idea where either of them lived, no method to assess where to lend my support.

4. I am an adult. This indicates I had some responsibility to the injured party. If Bike needed help, was I not obligated to give it to him? Especially since he said no when I asked if things were OK? This is the sticking point – what if I should have helped, but didn’t.

5. I am an adult. This indicates I’m quite responsible for my actions and if I helped the wrong person get the bike, that would be bad.

6. How would I have gotten the bike away from Walking? He was significantly larger than me, and while the hope is that kids respect me, I don’t know that it would be the case here. Had I decided to help, I didn’t have any sort of reasonable plan.

7. There was no apparent physical danger. Bike did stop willingly to talk to Walking. I took that to mean they knew each other and if the wrong person ended up with the bike, parents of the injured party could deal with getting it back.

The good news is that the jog back up the hill went really quickly and easily as I puzzled over how I handled this situation. I’m really, really bothered that I walked away. Yet I’m not convinced it wasn’t a rather appropriate response.

So, smart, online friends of mine, what should I have done? And why are boys so mean?! Is it bad that this is still bothering me so much?