Is AUTHOR wrong in the post ? POST : All right, I'll set the scene a bit. The TL;DR at the bottom will explain the whole thing like you were a coworker, otherwise enjoy the rare embellishment of my very ordinary life as an introverted nerd; this all happened in like 15 minutes..

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It's a cold, wet morning in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It's an October morning like any October morning. I parked my fuel efficient SUV at 6:55am at the trolley (subway/train) stop. I take the 7:20am trolley although I am there in time to take the 7:10am trolley, it gives me time to talk to the guy who takes my money, he's a cool dude, names Bob, has a dog named Cocoa. I'm chain smoking Pall Mall red's, the usual. Downing my first of two pre-8:00am energy drinks.

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The chilled air I am breathing out creates a white acrobatic cloud that mixes with noxious clouds of tobacco fumes. Livin' the dream....but what's this? A shriek over yonder? The energy drink kicks in and my temporary Wolverine senses detect a senior citizen under arrest! Immediately I bound over to assist. I throw my cigarette aside and after a hop, a skip, and then a jump I arrive at the baby boomers side.

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I assess the situation with the tenacity of Sherlock Holmes.   


There's an old lady. She's on the ground. Her nose is bleeding. There's a knocked down side.  


Think brain, think! What has happened to the person that time forgot, this poor soul! And then I muster the courage to my first thoughts. I say "How's it going?"  


This titan of times past looks up, fresh blood streaming down from her nose and with the propensity of a New Yorker and the grace of a Pittsburgher she softly mutters, "I tripped over that fucking post like a jagoff."

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I look over to analyse this fallen post. It says "handicapped only". She might be...now, I thought to myself. I look dejectedly down. I wondered distantly if Pittsburgh supported human euthanasia. But alas those questions would have to wait; the real help has arrived.

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Bob, everyone's favorite trolley dude, comes running over with some paper towels. He offers them to this fallen soldier of American labor. Never experiencing something like this Bob runs back to call his boss to let them know what happened and then call an ambulance.

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I came to find out this elder woman's name was Brenda, a sixty four year old accounting assistant at a bank. She asks me to call her husband, she doesn't have a cell phone. I take out my phone, I have unlimited minutes, this is my moment to shine.

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She tells me the number and says Richard will pick up. I don't know about this. Someone with the name of Richard could go anyone. He could be a really cool dude with a mustache or he could be a prick with a mustache. At the moment I hear a voice on the other end, it was him.

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It was Richard.

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"Hello, this is Richard." Jack pot. We've found him.

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"Morning Richard, my name's Redditthroaway553. I have your wife...here with me." Why did you stutter? He think's you've kidnapped Brenda. Stop fucking up. "She fell at the trolley and her nose is bleeding. She's okay and her with me."  


"Oh no, is she okay?" I breathe a sigh of relief. He turned out to be Richard, the cool dude with the mustache. My superhero energy drink senses kick back in the gear, I hear sirens. The underpaid hero's are on their way! But Richard still needs a status update.

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"I think so, she wants to talk to you. There is an ambulance coming, I can hear them now. One second." I hand the phone to Brenda her bloody fingerprints leaving a temporary impression on my phone, but a permanent one in my heart. I stay by Brenda's side until the ambulance arrives.

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She's safe, for now. The EMT's clean my phone off for me and I make my way back to the trolley. I look at Bob with the stare of a boy who has, no a MAN who has done a good service to his community. Bob stares right back at me, as he fills out his paperwork. "Y'ain't gotta pay today Paul. 'preciate your help." I nod and walk up the stairs to the platform. My work here was done.

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A few days later a man with a cool mustache named Richard called me and left a voicemail. He thanked me for helping his wife and wanted to talk to me if he could. I didn't return his call, I don't need a reward Richard, I'm just glad Brenda's okay.

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That was last year. Today I got a text from a Susan, an attorney. Apparently Brenda sued the transit authority people for leaving a busted handicapped sign lay on the ground in the dark. She won, but they haven't paid. The attorney wants to know if I would answer some questions. I really don't want to. Not for any other reason than I don't really care about the situation. Would I be the asshole if I didn't return the call?

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TL;DR - I saw an old lady fall and get hurt and she sued the public works people. They didn't pay and her attorney wants me to answer questions a year later. Would I be the asshole if I didn't call her back?