remove ad

ericboy's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur Miller is dead

Last night, I couldn't sleep. I tossed, I turned, I groaned, I flapped about like a fish on the boardwalk. All to no avail. I got out of bed at five am and went across the street to buy a twelve pack of Coca-Cola. I came back and got dressed for work. My roommate and I left the apartment and went to the job, but my shift didn't start for another two hours. I read the local rags, milled about the store, doing nothing, then went to Denny's across the freeway.
I ordered a hearty breakfast and managed to eat just about all of it. I looked at my bill, smiled at its inexpensiveness, and reached to my backpocket.
My ass had no contour. I had forgotten my wallet at home.
My face washed over in goosebumps and out of color. I finished my coffee in one mad gulp. I got up and walked over to the cashier. She was finishing up a transaction with a customer in front of me. He turned to leave and I stepped forward. She was all smiles.
"How was your meal today, sir?"
This is so ridiculous, but I need to speak to a manager. I've forgotten my wallet.
Her smile vanished and she picked up the phone. I turned to the people who had lined up behind me and ushered them forward, explaining that I'd be a while.
The manager came and asked what was up.
I feel so stupid. It seems I've forgotten my wallet. I work across the street and just stopped in for some breakfast before my shift starts at eight, and...
I was about to launch into a suggestion that I leave my cell phone and checking account number as collateral and pay it after I got off work, when the guy who I had ushered forward to the cashier dropped two fives on the counter and said, "I've got his meal."
Both the manager and myself whipped our heads to face him so quickly that I'm sure you could hear the air separate.
"That's awfully generous of you," the manager said.
Are you sure? I asked.
"Yeah. Give the rest to the waiter," and without waiting for thanks or assent, he turned and walked out.
Thank you I called after him. The manager and I looked to each other for a silent moment, then I picked up my cell phone off the counter, which I'd placed atop the check, and walked away. I came out of the door to go right as I saw the man walking away with his companion to the left.
Thanks again, man I said. He waved without turning, and so I went to work.
So, of course, now I have to "pay it forward". I never really thought that I'd garnered any kind of good kharma. I mean, I always try to do the right thing, and often fail in that endeavor. But I must have done something right at some point.
And you can be damn sure that I will again. It's good to know that there are still people out there like that. I'd like to think that I'm one of them.

5:34 p.m. - 2005-02-11

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries:

angryagain
lostwou
nanoericboy
starke-
nanobetty
less-than3
iluvtunes
ensie
margot08
chickenpie
istoba
shallowiris
inkedgal
revisions
cause-ofyou
veryraven
lovemetwice