An Old-Fashioned Model
Walking down the stairs of my building, I ran into a neighbor who was balancing a garbage bag and her toddler. At about the same time, a man I hadn't seen before came into the stairwell inquiring if I had any black shoe polish. I don't think I've ever had any shoe polish.
He offered to take the trash out for my neighbor since she had her young son. He was another neighbor's father, here on a visit. That is the kind of thing my Dad would do. They really don't make them like that anymore.