How to Give Good Deeds a Bad Name

Life is composed of accidental moments. They are glimpses of who we are and where we live.

A man came walking out of a post office in Fairfax County the other day and discovered that a tire on his car had gone flatter than a beer the morning after the party.

He was pondering what to do about it when a fellow walked up and offered to help.

Once the dirty chore of changing the tire was done, the 54-year-old driver handed over a few bucks to say thanks. It seemed only fair.

The next afternoon -- that would be Friday -- another man walked out of the same post office (the one on North Kings Highway) to find that he had the same problem: a flat tire.

Lo and behold, a fellow ambled along and said he'd be happy to lend a hand.

When the spare tire was firmly in place, the driver, a grateful 75-year-old, rewarded the helping hand with a few dollars.

Funny thing: Even as that tire was being changed, another car in the post office lot -- a 1998 Buick LeSabre that belonged to an 86-year-old man -- was sporting a flat tire.

What are the chances of that? Three flats, three drivers all in the middle-aged-to-elderly range, same parking lot, within two days?

Just about then, Fairfax County police were asking themselves the very same question.

They had received a call from the first car owner because the tire repair people told him his tire hadn't been nicked by a chunk of glass or a nail. It had been slashed. And then they had heard from another person who saw someone poking something sharp into tires on two cars in the lot.