What The Fuck Is Wrong With People?

I've asked that question many times, and I'm sure I'll ask it many more.

Yesterday, we went to Lowes, a store not unlike Home Depot if Home Depot were the House of Usher inhabited by Deep Old Ones. Where Home Depot is large, easy to navigate, and full of nice people, Lowes is cramped, angles don't seem to meet up correctly giving you a headache after being inside after three minutes, and the staff seemed to be competing in some kind of surly contest. We had to make a couple of returns, so I stop by the service desk and get in line. Almost immediately, I notice that there's a guy sitting in a wheelchair next to the door. More disconcerting is the fact that this guy is bleeding from several places on his face. Even worse, the blood isn't just tricking out, it's at the ooze stage - I can actually see it kind of coming out of the bridge of his nose, a big spot by his eye, and a large patch on his cheek. I immediately go into Boy Scout mode, and figure that he has gotten hurt recently, and that no one seems to be helping him. I turn to another guy in line.

"Is someone helping that guy?"

"I think they're calling the manager."

The manager? What the fuck. They ought to be calling an ambulance. I go over to the guy and ask if he's OK. He nods, but doesn't seem especially coherant. The guy I asked in line informs me that the guy in the wheelchair fell on his way in, and his glasses cut his face. He must have hit his head right on his glasses, because at this point blood is dripping down his nose. I also notice that the plastic nose pad has embedded itself in his skin and broken off from his glasses, so there's a big hunk of plastic under the blood and a nasty bit sticking out of his face.

I look around for a second, and the manager doesn't seem to be anywhere around. I turn to the girl working the return desk. "Call the paramedics," I said. "This guy needs some help." She tells me she already did. I decided to re-iterate, and she assured me they were on their way. Meanwhile, no one else is doing anything, and most of them aren't even trying to help.

I went to the bathroom, scrubbed the hell out of my hands, and got some paper towels so he could start mopping up the blood. When I came back, some kind of manager was standing there. I handed the guy the towels so he could start cleaning himself up. There was enough blood that he soaked them in a matter of seconds. The manager left, and said - I shit you not - "I'm going to go get a band-aid." I suggested, not to her face, that she might want to get some bactine while she was at it, for all the good it would do.

I uttered a four-letter word and went back to the bathroom for more towels. The manager still hasn't come back with the "band-aids" by the time I'm back, and the guy looks awful. And no one else is helping him. For fuck's sake. One of the employees comes over, and they wheel the guy over to the area in front of the bathroom, because it's more convenient (and out of the way of the people trying to shop who don't want to see a bloody old man in a wheelchair, I guess). To their credit, the paramedics arrive moments later and I direct them over to the guy. I seem to have been the only one who's noticed that a piece of the guy's glasses is jammed under his skin, so I inform the medical professionals of this fact.

After completing my return a few minutes later, I went over to the guy to see if he was OK. It turns out his name was Warren. The paramedics say:

"Warren here would like to still do some shopping before he leaves, will you be able to help with that?"

"I guess, if no one from the store can help him I'd be glad to."

"You mean you don't work for the store?"

"No."

But there was something unspoken there, too: "if you don't work for the store, why did you get involved?"

"Because it's the right thing to fucking do, and if I were an 80-year-old man who just hit my fucking head on the pavement and drove a chunk of my fucking glasses into my skin, I'd damn well want someone to help me out, too!"

At least, that's what I would have said had he posed the unasked question.

What bothers me though, is that out of the ten people standing in that area, I was the only one who went out of my way to help.