The other day in the Pittsburgh airport long-term parking lot, I walked by a parked sedan with the driver’s side door standing wide open. At first I assumed someone was in the car, gathering their items before exiting. But no, the car was empty and no one was around. Rushing to make a flight, someone must have left the door open. If the car battery wasn’t dead already it certainly would be by the time they returned. Not to mention, the sky was threatening rain. As my own little random act of kindness, I walked toward the car to close the door. And then I stopped. Because this is Post-911. What if there was a bomb in the car, rigged to explode when the door was closed?
I looked around for a security guard. Or someone else to weigh in on the matter. There was no one. I contemplated calling my sister, whose home I’d just flown back from. Then I felt irritated with myself because spending time with my sister for some reason makes me even more indecisive than usual. I was being ridiculous. What were the odds there was a bomb in the car? Then again, maybe I should leave the situation for someone else to deal with.
In the end, I inched closer to the car door, took a stance like a runner on second base, swung the door closed and ran.
Obviously, since I’m writing this, the car didn’t explode. And since it did in fact rain that night, I felt great about helping out a fellow traveler. I just hope some security camera didn’t record my technique.
I so, so wish that someone had gotten a photo or bit of video of you and your door-shutting technique.