Then I noticed the guy in front of me, with the "slow traffic triangle" backpack, was tap-tap-tapping a white-tipped cane, and headed straight for the truck.
Now, I know that some people with the canes can see kinda okay. I'm not clear on just how well they can see, but I know it's not pitch darkness.
But the truck was beeping, and somebody behind me was yelling "Yo! Yo! Yo-yo-yo-yo-yo!" but this guy was still tapping right toward the huge wheels of the truck. Best case scenario: his cane gets run over and shattered. Worst case: he gets killed or horribly maimed right in front of me because I was too diffident to take action.
I hustled my fat self after him and caught his arm when he was about two and a half feet from the side of the truck.
He stopped, rolled his head as if he was rolling his eyes (he was *very* tall, and I couldn't see his eyes) and turned his palms to the sky as if to say "Why is everyone always interrupting me?"
I said: "I'm sorry. There was a truck," but I hadn't spoken all morning, and my voice was extremely hoarse. I'm not sure he understood me.
And then I felt intensely embarrassed, because maybe he knew about the truck and was about to stop, and maybe I was being incredibly condescending. So I hustled around the front of the truck as it pulled out and hurried away.
On the plus side, I'm *totally* going to work that exasperated expression into a book.