Service to others . . . mutter, mutter, grumble, grumble . . . what a bunch of bullshit. I can't even bring myself to think about other people most of the time let alone do something for them. For free! With no guarantee that I'm going to get anything back! Holy shit, what kind of crazy-ass, worthless design for living is that?
Talk is cheap. Actions speak louder than words. I don't have a third trite saying.
The other day I was heading into my coffee hut, walking toward the door, eyeing a young woman angling in from the opposite direction, judging speed and acceleration and tack and arrival times before deciding to squeeze in before she arrived. I could have waited a beat, held the door for her, and queued up for a slightly longer wait, but I wanted my coffee earlier rather than later. I'm busy, you see, what with all my sitting on a park bench, slack-jawed and half-stupefied by the sun, watching the seagulls squabble around a fountain, contemplating nap first, then a sit in the hot tub? Or vice versa?
As we stood in line I turned to her and asked what she was ordering - I had decided to buy her drink as my small act of kindness for the day but first wanted to make sure she wasn't on an office run, getting 15 Iced Double Mochaccinos with a swirl and a dollop and chocolate sprinkles and extra shots. Those kind of drinks are expensive and take forever to make. Satisfied with her answer I bought my two coffees and told the barista to add her drink to the tab. The young woman was happy to avail me my kindness and quite diligent in thanking me as well, and I felt like a Titan of Industry making a huge charitable contribution.
My reward for a whole $4 outlay? More than $4.
This is the same coffee hut where I received a no-charge drink a couple of weeks ago. I had walked all the way over there without my wallet and decided - in lieu of . . . you know . . . money - to brazenly asked the employees if they'd give me a freebie that I would then pay for during my next visit. This wasn't as outlandish as it sounds because I knew both of the baristas from my regular visits. And the salient fact is that I take the time to talk to these kids, ask about their day or the classes they're taking, little kindnesses that show I care about them even though the big crowd of evil little Stevie Seaweeds who live in my head are saying: "Who gives a shit?" Those guys are jerks but they can be pretty funny as long as I don't actually speak out loud the things they're suggesting I say. No guarantee with that.
During my next visit I explained the situation to the woman manning the cash register. She eyed me like I was a little deranged and said: "Don't worry about it." See - my well-thought out plan to get a free drink - to steal some coffee - worked out perfectly. Now . . . what do I do with that extra $3.30 that I have? Hmmmm.
An action. With a lot of words but the action part is the part I'm trying to emphasize, not the words part.
Finally, every time I go into my regular donut shop the woman running the place greets SuperK and me by name. I've never heard her greet anyone else personally. I know her name, of course. Maybe it's because I always give her $5 for $2 worth of donuts but then she always sticks a dollar worth of donut holes into the bag, gratis. I hope and believe it's because we've spent some time learning something about her so it has personalized the whole experience for all three of us.
Action!
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