I’m learning to be more generous than greedy bastard. It’s worth it. It’s not about someone doing something back for you. It’s not. I have noticed though there are rewards when you take the grip off your wallet.
A couple weeks ago, I was on my way to McDonalds. Nothing new about that. As I was driving up, none of the cars would let me cross and this lady stopped, smiled and gave me the nice hand signal for me to go.
There aren’t many people giving the nice hand signal nowadays.
I smiled and noticed that she pulled into McDonald’s right behind me. Not only was she kind. She was my kind of woman. Down to earth. She must know Ruth in the drive thru, too!
And I pulled up to the window to pay and told Ruth, “Whatever she’s getting, pay for her order too.” Ruth hates when I do this because the manager has to come from the front to the drive thru to approve someone using their card for two transactions. Tough shit, Ruth. I look at pictures of your granddaughter every day. You can handle a one minute delay.
I put a note on the back of my business card that simply said thank you for being kind and drove off. I didn’t need to wait for her reaction. The point was to be nice and move on.
And a message comes in for me yesterday. It’s Dr. Nia. She’s been looking at my business card and note for days and finally called. Buying her coffee stunned her. She said no one is nice anymore.
That no one is nice anymore is not a good thing. It shouldn’t stand out that she would be impressed with someone buying her coffee. From McDonalds.
Dr. Nia insists I come to her office Saturday for an hour deep tissue massage. Look at what a little act of kindness does…just keeps going.
After the event, two of the event directors and I went bar hopping. Umm..to a bar. One bar. There wasn’t really any hopping involved. There were drinks and there was calamari and lots of catching up and a little bit of work but not much. And then, Jack came over.
Jack is ruggedly handsome. He has this sort of reddish beard and bluish eyes and he wrapped his arms around B, one of the event directors and hugged the hell out of her. They’ve known each other awhile and this is B’s territory so she should get the hugging. I get the hugging in Irvine and my restaurants.
Anyway, Jack starts chatting with the three of us and mentions that there was this one pretty blonde (what’s new about that opening line) and he wanted to talk to her but she was in “the diamond lock down formation”. Four women. Blocking Jack. Blocking Jack’s cock. Bringing a swift end to Jack’s evening.
And I look over and roll my chocolate brown eyes and tell him, “Be brave. Just bust through and tell her you wish you had your wingman with you because you’d really like to ask her out.”
The discussion went on for sometime and Jack continued to mull this over. I think there are the brave men and the not brave men and sometimes not brave men can become brave men. Just ask. Just ask her if she wants to go out. She might say yes, You Idiot.
The worst that could happen is you’ll be back at home finishing it off by yourself. Right? Not much change in that from last night, darlin’.
We had an event last night in Newport Beach. Lots of people. Great food. Good drinks. Good music. Well, not my kind of music but I noticed my foot starting to tap so I guess it was doing it’s job. I was project managing and consulting so it wasn’t my event it was more my event to point fingers and boss around.
I at least got to pick out the flowers. I love picking out the flowers.
So, this woman is sitting in the back all by herself and has that look on her face like, “Don’t fucking talk to me.”
I decide to fucking talk to her.
And I ask. “What’s your story?”
She poured out her little Newport Beach heart. Broke and broken after the sub prime disaster. Lost everything. Husband is working his ass of in another state trying to keep the rest of their lives intact until the rest of their lives aren’t intact any longer. She misses him and doesn’t miss him. She’s angry and angry that he’s not angry and handling the loss well.
There’s lots of medications. Of the prescription kind. The ones that makes things a little lighter and fuzzier.
I’m not big on intruding in people’s misery. Sometimes people really want to be miserable but I’m thinking most of the time they don’t. And that big old “don’t fuck with me” face is all an act. It’s simply another tender heart wanting someone to give a damn.
Sometimes we just need to give a damn. Even in Orange County.