The Good Samaritan
It was 11:00pm at 14th and A, over half an hour since we’d called for a cab to take us to 14th and H. And finally, emboldened by several glasses of wine, we decided to walk. We would fly the eight blocks on wings of bordeaux! But somewhere along the way we met Marvin.
Our Good Samaritan was getting into his car when we three tipsy loons approached him for a ride. I don’t know how it happened, really, but suddenly we were in a perfect stranger’s car being driven to the Rock and Roll Hotel. His name was Marvin, originally from Nicaragua, most recently Pittsburgh, and he had a certain grace and innate kindliness that you sometimes forget actually does exist in the world. We were instantly enamoured and appreciative and the conversation flew around in that strange rapid way when you randomly meet someone you instantly hit it off with – his advice on my friends’ Costa Rican wedding, Frank Lloyd Wright and Falling Water – we kept pinching ourselves afterwards about the oddness of it all, of meeting someone so genuine and well, just plain nice.
I could of course be cynical and say he hadn’t been in DC long enough to have it beaten out of him, but I like to think that won’t be the case, that he’ll continue to spread courtesy for the rest of his life, and that people will respond in kind. I hope so.