You aren’t even halfway through the work week. You’ve just started up. You haven’t the fresh outlook of Monday or the hopeful hump of Wednesday. But by golly, you can take solace in the fact that it’s Lollipop Tuesday.
Happy Lollipop Tuesday, ya’ll.
Once, many moons ago, I wanted very badly to have a fancy evening out with David, even though I knew it wasn’t a good fit for the budget at the time. But work was exhausting and it had been a long time since we had time out together, so I stubbornly forged ahead and went to the nicest Japanese steakhouse and sushi bar in the city.
For a girl who’s car muffler is currently being held up by a wire coat hanger, this was a poor choice.
We dressed up and joined a table for hibachi, and just for one evening, pretended that money meant nothing. When it was time for the check, the waitress informed everyone at the table that our check had been covered by a gentleman who was sitting with us and that we could leave whenever we were ready without paying.
It blew my mind.
So last evening, I went to my favorite restaurant to pay it forward (thanks to “Ker-bear” for her suggestion on the “What’s Lollipop Tuesday?” page). I settled in to a booth in the busiest section and scoped out my clientele. And in the corner I found a middle-aged couple who looked like they were out for a relaxing evening together. They also looked quite grumpy.
I liked to imagine that they were grumpy because they didn’t want to pay for their food and that someone taking care of the check for them would make them fall in love with each other again.
I have a vivid imagination.
So I asked my waitress if she could transfer their bill to mine and just not let them know who I was. She was more than happy to and when they asked for their check, she coyly answered that it had been taken care of and walked away.
Enter mass confusion.
I watched from the corner of my eye as they sat there with confused smirks, wondering if there was something wrong with the food. Or perhaps there was someone in the restaurant they knew and they were supposed to look around and notice them. Or maybe they heard the waitress wrong.
After stewing on it for a while, the gentleman got up to question the waitress and ask if he could know the identity of the benefactor. She said she was sworn to secrecy and that she was sorry that she could not reveal the source. He gave up on trying to figure it out, grabbed his significant other, and left the establishment.
I peaked out the curtain to see them walk away, dazed, confused, and sporting crooked smiles.
In retrospect, I should have passed them a handwritten note that their meal had been paid for and that it was for no reason whatsoever other than to brighten their day and encourage them to pay it forward. Or heck, even just a “pay it forward and have a nice day” would have been a great script for the waitress.
But I did nothing. I planned nothing. It was so unorchestrated and sloppy.
I hope that they enjoyed the experience. Looking back, I would have changed the way things played out, but hey – I’m just a critical gal. And Dave said the waitress was elated to be part of the process so even if I was convinced that the couple wasn’t quite as affected as I would have liked, I could take comfort in the fact that her night was perked up by the experience.
Regardless, this whole thing got me thinking: this is a great kickoff to my 25 Random Acts of Kindness, as suggested by bridgesburning on my post from the other day on finding a way to celebrate my quarter century milestone.
This past weekend I made chocolate chip cookies to my sister-in-law, who is very pregnant and has been craving them (discovered via Facebook), but hasn’t had the energy or willpower to make them for herself. That’s one.
Random dinner is two.
Today will be three.
Yee haw. ♣