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I come to tell a short story. I left work late
today. I had a lot of work to do and I had to finish preparing a couple
of tax returns. I missed a going away happy hour for a wonderful friend
because of this. Driving back I decided I would stop in at the mall and
see if I could get in for a hair cut.
I pulled into the parking lot, struggled into a "compact" parking
space and started walking towards the large monument to consumerism. A
young couple ahead of me was speaking with a woman who kept shaking her
head. After a few more head bobs the woman turned away and the two
youngin's turned on me.
-We ran out of gas, we have just enough to get to a gas station, I only have
one bar on my cell phone, I've been calling for an hour, you can look at the
gauge if you'd like, we need to get home to south center, we just came here to
get her a belly ring, we lost $78 in there, someone must have just picked it
up, this is so embarassing...
-CAN WE HAVE SOME MONEY!!
I looked at them. I looked away. I shuffled my feet. I asked a couple
questions. I looked at them both. I looked at the ground... I
thought it over. I remembered the story my father had of a person asking
for money like this as well and then driving up with a decked out 4x4. I
knew I had no cash in my wallet, but I figured... what the hell? They
have a story... and I was embarrassed.
So I jogged back to my truck and managed to wrangle up a few bucks in dimes,
nickels, quarters, and a Sacagawea golden dollar. I save this change for
emergencies... such as running low on gas or just needing a burger. I had
a great Wendy's fry and Jr. Bacon Cheese burger the other day from just this
same stash.
Walking back I saw the young man telling his story to others. Upon
arrival he showed me a small handful of change.
-We just got this from another lady.
I reviewed his hand, noted that it was about $2, did a small calculation in my
head and decided an additional $3 would get the two home. I forked over
the change, told them that the gallon and a half ought to get them there,
remarked that they were just lucky it wasn't raining... although they might
have gotten money faster... and headed into the mall to see about my $15
hair-cut.
As always... and as expected, I found the hair salon booked.
-45 minutes, it is your choice.
I made my choice. I left. I don't like the idea that one needs to make an
appointment to get a haircut. I have a hard enough time following my own
daily schedule. Why would I want my hair stylist to dictate another
portion of it? Let alone... $15, a 45 minute wait and then a hair cut any
friend could give me!
So I headed back out and I figured I would see how legit the young couple was.
I found them still requesting money from random individuals. Most
refused, but I saw more change... change hands. People don't seem to have
too hard a time parting with the small round discs in their pockets. I
lost site of some interchanges between the cars, but about 45 minutes later the
big donor arrived.
The donor came in the form of an older couple, perhaps early fifties, along
with a slightly younger man. Younger man stepped the closest and
maintained eye contact. Old man immediately hid his right hand in this
pant pocket and stared at the ground. Woman looked at them all and
shifted her purse. The story insured... there were questions. Some
feet shuffled and hands moved about nervously. The group took a step
away, then stepped back. The young man continued swinging his hands about
in illustration of his distress. Then, just as the younger man and the
woman turned away the old man pulled his black wallet out of his pocket.
A bit of green reflected in the light and bills transferred hands.
The donors slid away down the parking lot… the woman and younger man obviously
chastising the older man… the older man shrugging and smiling sheepishly.
The young couple at last headed out. And... well, and I followed
them. We revved down out of the parking lot, up the boulevard and into
Chevron. I sat back, watched the girl run in with what looked like a $10
into the Chevron, and then return to tell the boy to start pumping. When
the pump stopped they turned back out to the road, crossed it and entered the
drive up line for McDonalds.
I crossed the road and parked. With a
smile on my face walked up to the passenger side window. I knocked gently
and leaned on the sill. My question: How much did you get? I want
to know how much you can get in this kind of... industry. Well not
industry, it seems to be the opposite of that.
-We've got a friend that works here, this isn't an industry, we don't do
this everyday, you are going to get knocked out, we are going to get some free
food, I'm not homeless, your going to get knocked out, do you want your change
back, you think you can walk up and knock on a window like this, your going to
get knocked the **** out.
My response: Why are you getting angry?
-Because you are going to get knocked the **** fuck out!
Me: That is not a reason to get angry.
And I walked away. I got back in my truck, backed it out of the one-way
drive up lane, spun around and got on the road home.
I consider it $3 well spent. Plus, my changes still went to its
designated purpose: gas and burgers.
:o)
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