i am chivalrous, but this is boring

Loooong road trip last wk, as previously mentioned. Because I was so busy (and a procrastinator) I ended up having to do laundry at midnight. The hotel was out of quarters, so I walked a few blocks to 6th Street where young people hang out and dance and listen to music, and stuff stays open late.

I didn't feel like trying to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles quarters with a busy bartender in a loud club while surrounded by drunk hyper students, so I walked around looking for a convenience store.

As I crossed the street, a girl looked at me and said "come here", and grabbed my arm.
She was completely lit up and I had no idea what her deal was, but she started to explain that she was drunk (really?) and had lost her friends. Could I help her find them?
I suggested I might not be that helpful since I didn't know what they looked like.

Then she asked if I had a car, and would I drive her home to the north side. This was annoying because
a) I was really tired, she lived miles away, it was midnight and I still had laundry to do, and
b) Now I was feeling responsible, because if she asked the wrong person to take her home and turned up dead or missing the next day it would be my fault.

Eventually she volunteered that she knew someone at Buffalo Billiards who could give her a ride, so I agreed to walk her there. As we walked the 6 blocks to BB, she started to stumble and took my hand. Somehow I had gone from doing laundry to walking hand in hand with a drunk 20-something down 6th street. I thought that was weird enough, but then we had this conversation:

Girl: I've had a really lousy day. My husband got out of jail today and came to my house even though there's a restraining order.

Me [dropping her hand]: Girl, you're walking down the street holding *my* hand, and you've got a husband who's been in jail? Thanks a lot.

Girl: Don't worry, I called the cops and he's back in jail.

Me: What about his friends?

Girl: He doesn't have any friends.

She smiled happily and took my hand again. I walked her the remaining block to Buffalo Billiards, looking over my shoulder for tattooed ex-cons wearing expressions of jealous rage.

The doorman at BB confirmed that she was known and would be taken care of.

Then I got some quarters and went back to my hotel.