Bad Friday

So let's talk about the fact that I was all set to go out tonight when I discovered that every bar in Sydney closes at 10pm on Good Friday! WTF!!! How dare Jesus ruin my night.

Today I was waiting at the bus stop down the block from the house but, of course because of this damned holiday AGAIN (or perhaps because Sydney buses are crap), I waited for a half hour and no bus came. An elderly man came to wait at the stop too and we exchanged a few pleasantries. He had huge sunglasses on, the kind that cover half your face, a dark suit, a cane, and some kind of cap on his head. He spoke with an unidentifiable (seemed Eastern European) accent. When I remarked on the late bus situation, he said all he had to do was go down the block to the pharmacy to get eye drops. He suggested that while we wait for the bus we get coffee. Imagine, I was actually being picked up by an octogenarian! I'm ashamed to say it, but I did not relish the idea of getting coffee with this strange man, although he seemed harmless. I thanked him kindly, but declined. Then I suggested I walk down to the pharmacy to pick up the eye drops for him. He thanked ME kindly this time, but said he could not let me do that. I insisted, but he said no, I would miss the bus. Rather than stay and keep him company while we both waited for the bus, I decided to walk to the main part of town (just 15 minutes away) and catch a bus there. I said goodbye to the man and went on my way. I was halfway down the street when I realized I really should have stayed with him. Not only out of good samaritanism (because that would have been the right thing to do), but for the prospect of talking with someone who had the potential to be really interesting. I started to feel really bad about leaving and really wished I had stayed, but it was too late. Then I passed the pharmacy and it was closed of course. Dammit Good Friday, you are so not! Now I started to really regret my decision and I realize this sounds kind of nutty, but I felt like a terrible person at that moment. I really hope I see this man again so I have a chance to redeem myself, ask HIM to go for coffee maybe. This seems a tad self-centered though, like who am I to assume this man even gives a shit that I left him there? Anyway, even though I missed out on a potentially interesting conversation (who knows, maybe this guy is a complete bore or maybe he is a terrible person), I'm thinking it would make a great basis for a novel. Sort of a what if situation...what if I had stayed at the bus stop and become friendly with this elderly man? After all, he lives just down the street from me. But how do I prevent a story about a friendship between a young woman and an old man from becoming overly sentimental?