The right pick

She looked around at the crowd around her. "Unbelievable..." She shook her head and muttered to herself. But she needed the crowd for the work she was about to do. She scanned each face carefully, looking for the right one. She kept looking, ignoring the advice of the voices in her head that said, "You don't have to actively look for them, that will draw too much attention and the whole thing could backfire. If you scare them away, you will never be able to achieve anything. Just relax, okay? They will come to you on their own, trust us. You're getting a bit psychotic and obsessive about this, you know. It doesn't have to be such a dramatic battle in your head first. You're not the only person who does this. There are many people out there who do this on a daily level. If it has to happen, it will. If not, you just go about your usual business and come back."

She didn't agree. "I have to find them myself." She thought. There had been times she had failed and felt miserable. When she felt that the target was within arm's reach and yet, she couldn't do anything because of the sea of people between the target and her. She scanned the crowd once more, looking for the right one. It had to be someone old and frail, preferably a retiree. Any younger and/or stronger and yes, the whole thing could backfire. Preferably someone holding a large heavy bag, she thought. She looked at the people around her and shook her head in disapproval. None of them were suitable.

And finally, after a long long time, she found the perfect target, standing just a few feet away. Very old. Completely white hair. Very thin and frail. He was holding a large white plastic bag, and looked like he was struggling with the weight. "That's the one. Finally." She smiled to herself. And the best part was --- even though he was not looking at her, he was walking right towards her.

She got up, tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, and said as the bus rocked again, "Uncle, you can have my seat."