It was recently the birthday of a very close friend (and current roommate), and so I went in search of a card. It was somewhat of an inappropriate card, and one I’ve given to a few friends. (If it keeps yielding a positive reaction, keep giving it.) And so I ventured to a major retailer to find that ideal card.
As an aside, the card hit the bullseye again. The Knob Creek I bought him also hit the spot. He said thank you, but I knew the smile on his face was all that was needed to know he was appreciative.
One of the first things learned as a child — this was instilled in the minds of my brother and I — was to say please and thank you. If not, we’d get that glare that invokes fear in to the heart of a child. And we were constantly reminded to be polite, and there is a discrepancy as to what we might have learned next. Holding the door was one of those things.
The guy in front of me while walking into Today’s Special last week, did not know how to hold the door. Thankfully I wasn’t holding my soup at that moment. It’s a simple act of kindness, and it doesn’t take much. He knew I was there, because he sped past me as if he was in a rush to pee.
My feet double stepped to the red doors, but slowed as my person approached a mother and child. I’m not sure what they were discussing — they spoke fluent Chinese, and I’m unsure of the dialect — but it was clear the boy (3 or 4 years of age) debated going through the manual or automatic door.
He chose the manual side, and the two singly pushed on each of the doors. Before the left one closed, I stopped the door with my palm and walked through. The two played the same game with the next set of doors. This time my stride allowed me to approach quickly, ad my palm stopped the door before it could slightly swing shut.
The child looked up at me, surprised I was behind him. He smiled up at me, and my smile widened more. Go ahead, I said and motioned with my free arm. His mother stood there, and told her son to v’mon.
He looked at her before returning his gaze to me. He smiled, shook his head; his hair flopped with each turn. No, I want YOU to go, he said.
Well, thank you, I told him and nodded slightly. While walking in I looked at his mom, who was now chuckling.
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald