Colorado, from a New Yorker's point of view

What do you do when an old guy staggers out into the street in front of you? I was the first car stopped at a light, at a busy intersection.  This old guy staggers out, trying to cross five or six lanes of traffic.  Sober but old.  He looks confidant and then rather quickly. . . scared. Which reads dementia to me.  My first thought was to get out & help him.  Then my mind switches to having my passenger help him.  I was definitely thinking he’s someone’s father.  Somewhere this guy has grand kids.  I would feel horrible if this was my relative, just staggering into the street.  Trying to cross, but not really in the crosswalk.  I don’t even think there was a cross-walk.

Al’right. Let’s be honest. As a New Yorker, I wanted the guy out of my way. The light was green, I looked both ways to make sure there were no other cars, or bikes about to run the light.  It was time to go.  I was in the clear. Which means time to hit the gas.  I got somewhere to be, get this old fuck out of the road.

No, I don’t mean that. I feel bad for him. . . but then again. . . . he is in my way.  And why is his family letting him wonder off? If they don’t care, why should I!

But what if they do care? What if this was his prison break? What if he’s had his mind set on this afternoon for weeks.  His one escape to chase some tail and eat a cheeseburger.  Either way he is in my way.