A matter of being thanked or hated

As I was walking my way out of the second level of the parking area to go to office, I saw a man seated on the driver's seat, his eyes closed, all the windows of the car closed. I froze on my steps and for a couple of seconds I contemplated on whether to check on him or continue about my way.

The parking area was not totally enclosed, and so there is no risk really that he could get carbon monoxide poisoning so perhaps the man was just taking a nap. So I started to make that first step to walk away, however, a voice inside me told me what if there's something wrong with the guy? He was still wearing his seat belt and he looked stiff.

I walked towards his car, peeked through his window. His radio was on. I looked for a sign that he's breathing...ok his chest is moving, good. What should I do next? Maybe I could go now? Well I need to make sure nothing's wrong with him, shouldn't I?

I knocked on the car window. Knock knock knock.
No response. Yikes!
Again, knock knock knock.
No response still. Oh no!
Knock knock knock.
He moved and opened his eyes.

I made a thumbs up sign to ask if he's ok. He shook his head and hands and looked like he was irritated. I think it meant, he's fine and for me to leave him alone. So I went about my way and I am now at my office desk typing this.

I don't feel bad even if the man might hate me now for disturbing his nap. And yep, I didn't expect he'd thank me for checking on him. But I just feel good that I did what I had to do.