Le Chaperone

I was at a Farmer's Market in Vacation City last week, a glorious opportunity not to be missed in this part of the world.  I had strolled around, buying so much cheap, fresh fruit and vegetables that I had to make two trips to  my car.  The sun was shining, the palm trees were waving, angels may or may not have been singing - it was right out of a Hollywood movie set.  My final task was to buy a ridiculously delicious lunch for my wife and me from a food truck.  If you buy ethnic food from people of that very same ethnicity, people who cook each order after it's placed, people who speak that ethnicity's language better than your own, you're going to eat good.

I was standing there waiting for my food to come up when I was surrounded by a group of developmentally disabled kids and their two chaperones.  One of the kids - maybe even a young woman - was perusing the contents of a tent set up by a vendor of cheap plastic crap.   She held up a novelty headband - one that had Mickey Mouse ears or googly eyes affixed to long, jouncing springs, I didn't really pay attention - and showed it her chaperone.

"$2.50," announced the cheap plastic crap proprietress.

"Isn't that great?" the chaperone said.  "Halloween is coming up.  Maybe we can buy it next week."

I leaned in, trying to be discreet.  Really, I was.

"What if I buy it for her? I whispered.

"Oh, no, that's OK," replied the chaperone, probably wondering what the long-haired creep with a pork pie hat was up to.

"Seriously, I'd like to," I said.

The chaperon announced to her charge what was going down; I passed the two-fifty to the girl; and the booth-ite made a sale.  I beat it the hell out of there.  I really did.  It was such a ridiculously small gesture that I would have been embarrassed by even one more word of thanks.  I mean, this kid was in sorry shape - she wasn't looking at a lot of varied opportunities in her life.  I don't mean to suggest she couldn't be happy, just that she definitely got shortchanged in what most of us consider to be blessings.  Most people - not all, mind you - would look at me and look at her, and choose my circumstances.  

I'm speculating here.  Maybe I've overestimating my appeal to the general public.  I haven't had a lot of people come up to me and compliment me on my circumstances.

The troupe, of course, passed by my car as they left the area.  The girl was clutching a little bag with her headband.  

"Thank you," the chaperone mouthed at me, as I sat in my Very Expensive Car.

I'll leave it up to you to guess who felt better about that whole episode.