no good deed redux
[I was supposed to post this last night, but shit went sour. -ed.]
I've been making it a point not to do too much late night eating. I don't eat much as it is, but I've been doing my best to keep it at just my regular two meals a day. So far, I lost the holiday weight plus another pound. This made me happy.
Tonight, however, after watching 24, and having maybe too many beers, the small meals I had for lunch and dinner just weren't cutting it, and around midnight, I realized that the alcohol in my system would make tomorrow a pretty shitty day if I didn't get something to eat. The queen bee was over, so she drove me in her giant SUV down to the de facto diner so I could grab some ham and eggs. And an English muffin. Outside the diner, I was confronted by a very grizzled old man. I'm not sure how old he was, but he had that worn, mangy look of a man who'd been living outside for quite sometime. His voice was very gruff, and he said, "excuse me, man, but could you..."
My mind filled in the rest. I told him I didn't have any cash on me, which was true. I hardly ever carry cash anymore, because I'll spend it, lose it, or give it away, and unfortunately, every dollar counts. I just use my ATM card, which probably causes my money to dwindle away even faster.
Then he said, "No, man. Could you buy me a bowl of oatmeal?" It bothers me that this country have so much and still people can't afford basic needs like food. I'm not going to get on a pedistal, because I'm sure I'm not doing anything to help matters none, but I'd like to think that on a person-to-person level, I do what I can. He asked me to buy him a bowl of oatmeal, and I wasn't going to say no to that. I told him I would, and he said, "with brown sugar and cream." Beggars have every right to be choosers.
I sat down at the counter and ordered a plate of ham and eggs and asked for a bowl of oatmeal with cream and brown sugar to go. I'd asked him if he wanted it to go, and he said he did. I noticed he had a large bag at his feet, and he didn't look like the type who stayed in one place for too long. I was the only person at the diner and my food came almost instantaneously; in fact, it came out so fast, I wondered how safe it was for eating.
It was fine, especially the ham (the hash browns were disappointing), and towards the end of my meal, the oatmeal was presented to me in a large styrofoam cup. I was at the diner for all of ten minutes. I paid the tab and walked out with my bag of oatmeal, but when I got outside, the grizzled man was nowhere to be seen. I walked around the building once, then stood in front for a minute. There was no bag, no trace of him. I couldn't think of what else to do, so I took the oatmeal home. It's on my kitchen counter. I can't help but wonder, though, what happened to the guy, and if he'd gotten someone else to buy him something to eat, or if I really saw that dude at all. I do know what I'm having for breakfast in the morning, though.
[I didn't eat the oatmeal this morning, in case you were wondering. -ed.]
I've been making it a point not to do too much late night eating. I don't eat much as it is, but I've been doing my best to keep it at just my regular two meals a day. So far, I lost the holiday weight plus another pound. This made me happy.
Tonight, however, after watching 24, and having maybe too many beers, the small meals I had for lunch and dinner just weren't cutting it, and around midnight, I realized that the alcohol in my system would make tomorrow a pretty shitty day if I didn't get something to eat. The queen bee was over, so she drove me in her giant SUV down to the de facto diner so I could grab some ham and eggs. And an English muffin. Outside the diner, I was confronted by a very grizzled old man. I'm not sure how old he was, but he had that worn, mangy look of a man who'd been living outside for quite sometime. His voice was very gruff, and he said, "excuse me, man, but could you..."
My mind filled in the rest. I told him I didn't have any cash on me, which was true. I hardly ever carry cash anymore, because I'll spend it, lose it, or give it away, and unfortunately, every dollar counts. I just use my ATM card, which probably causes my money to dwindle away even faster.
Then he said, "No, man. Could you buy me a bowl of oatmeal?" It bothers me that this country have so much and still people can't afford basic needs like food. I'm not going to get on a pedistal, because I'm sure I'm not doing anything to help matters none, but I'd like to think that on a person-to-person level, I do what I can. He asked me to buy him a bowl of oatmeal, and I wasn't going to say no to that. I told him I would, and he said, "with brown sugar and cream." Beggars have every right to be choosers.
I sat down at the counter and ordered a plate of ham and eggs and asked for a bowl of oatmeal with cream and brown sugar to go. I'd asked him if he wanted it to go, and he said he did. I noticed he had a large bag at his feet, and he didn't look like the type who stayed in one place for too long. I was the only person at the diner and my food came almost instantaneously; in fact, it came out so fast, I wondered how safe it was for eating.
It was fine, especially the ham (the hash browns were disappointing), and towards the end of my meal, the oatmeal was presented to me in a large styrofoam cup. I was at the diner for all of ten minutes. I paid the tab and walked out with my bag of oatmeal, but when I got outside, the grizzled man was nowhere to be seen. I walked around the building once, then stood in front for a minute. There was no bag, no trace of him. I couldn't think of what else to do, so I took the oatmeal home. It's on my kitchen counter. I can't help but wonder, though, what happened to the guy, and if he'd gotten someone else to buy him something to eat, or if I really saw that dude at all. I do know what I'm having for breakfast in the morning, though.
[I didn't eat the oatmeal this morning, in case you were wondering. -ed.]
5 comments:
You're a good boy!
I hate oatmeal.
Except for the Irish steel cut kind. But that doesn't have the same texture or taste so it's not even like oatmeal.
If I were that grizzled old fella, I'd have been peering through the windows, desperately and patiently awaiting my sustenance. Maybe he fell down an open manhole while pacing and waiting.
so what you're saying is, you don't like oatmeal...
he very well could have, but i'd like to think that some unmarked white van without windows pulled up and evil government storm troopers spilled out and took him to some kind of republican-ification plant. i'm sure they have those. otherwise, i'd like to think that he was an apparition placed there to test me.
J your a kind boy.....i bet that bag was filled with $100 bills!
Umm.. I don't like oatmeal.
Post a Comment