Tag: bad day

It’s been a bad couple of months.

Every workday, and a couple of Sundays, I was out before dawn and back long after the sun went down. Other than through the windshield, I went weeks without seeing the sun. It seemed everything I touched broke, and I felt like I let people down. Honestly, if I’d been in charge, my last conversation would’ve ended with “Someone from HR will contact you with details and these men are here to escort you to your car”. To say the least, my morale and confidence were at their nadirs, and it was damned hard to be the boyish, devil may care guy you’ve come to know.

Things Fall Apart

A couple of weeks into that debacle, there was a loud bang in the garage, accompanied by a small puddle of oil and a dangling chain, and now the garage door doesn’t go up anymore. If it did, I’m not sure it would go back down.

A couple of weeks after the garage door breaking, I lost a filling in an upper molar. It was strange that it didn’t hurt, and it wasn’t sensitive to hot and cold. I finally made it to a dentist. X Rays showed it to be a broken tooth that needed to come out. I had a nasty infection to go along with it. Does my nose feel stuffy? Because there’s enough bone loss to impact my sinuses. I guess that explains the ringing in my ear and occasional vertigo. Oh, and the tooth opposite, on the lower jaw? It’s got to come out too, and I’ll need a bone graft in both. Eat soft foods until I can schedule an appointment with the surgeon. Estimate after insurance? About 1,200 quatloos.

Enter Alice

Believe it or not, this post isn’t about any of that, (watch for updates in future posts). It’s about, well, I don’t know her name, so I’ll call her Alice.

On my way home from one of those epic nights on the job, I stopped to pee, (I always have to stop to pee), and grab a burrito at a local chain made famous by that show about the cancer ridden chemistry teacher and his rascally protege. I haven’t had anything to eat in 22 hours. I was running on Diet Coke, Orange Celsius, and not just a little bit of despair and self-loathing.

The Order

On my way out of the loo and on my way to the counter to place my order, Alice addressed me, from across the restaurant, loudly, and in a less than kind tone: “The dining room is closed! We’re only taking drive through orders!”

Moi, (sweetly): “I just needed the gents. Do you want me to go back out and order from the drive through?”

Alice, (less loudly, and in less less than kind tone): “Fine, I can take your order over here.”

Me: “Fantastic. I’ll have a —”

Alice stopped being over here. She started being over there, at the drive through, taking an order.

Nameless cook, (loudly, and in a less than kind tone): “We’re out of burger meat.”

Alice, (loudly, and in a less than kind tone): “Fuck it. Just make ’em some shit.” (Sorry mom)

Alice started being over here again: “Sorry sir, what can I get you?”

Me: “Carne Adovada Chimi plate, smothered with extra red, no rice, extra beans and a small chili cheese fries, extra Christmas.”

Alice started punching (and I mean punching) the register. “Ok, I’ll try, but we’re out of a lot of stuff and I don’t know what you’re going to get. They’re fucking (sorry mom) everything up back there.”

Judgments and Grace

Now that I was closer, I noticed that Alice was in her mid to late 20’s. Bad skin, too much pale pink glitter eyeshadow and lipstick. Bleach blonde with HEAVY black roots. And ever so slightly slurring her words. I started forming an impression of Alice: At least part ‘white trash’ and probably ever so slightly high.

I could’ve left, maybe even ran, at this point, but I was hungry with limited options. And after weeks of failures, staggering losses and disappointments, by God I was going to get what I wanted to eat and actually succeed at something I started. My inner TV started looping the tuna fish scene from “Five Easy Pieces” and The Whammy Burgers breakfast scene from “Falling Down”. If I’d seen “The Menu” no doubt a scene from that would’ve been in the loop too.

The Turn

And then in the next few nano-flops, my inner AI stepped in and said “consider these facts”.

• Nobody I went to high school with ever said they wanted to sling burritos for a living.
• I don’t know anything about her. I don’t even know her name.
• She doesn’t know anything about me and my recent history. She doesn’t even know my name.
• I’ve been on the other side of that counter, figuratively and literally my whole life.
• Escalating the situation isn’t going to get me fed.
• I saw “Waiting” and I know what happens to the orders of people who treat the staff badly.

So, I said, “It’s OK. I appreciate your efforts and I’m sure whatever I get will be fine.”

Alice said, “I can’t believe you’re being so chill about this.”

I shrugged, smiled and repeated, “It’s OK.”

The Hug

And Alice unloaded. Alice needed to unload. She told me her day had been shitty, that her divorce was going badly and she was worried about her kid. And she couldn’t believe how chill I was being.

I was exhausted and my psyche was brittle, so I had to dig deep, but I found some empathy and understanding and I told Alice, “It’ll get better. I promise. I’ve been there, and as bad as it is today, it’s going to get better. You’ve got love in your life.”

And Alice started to cry, just a little. “I can’t believe how cool you’re being to me.”

I don’t know. But in that moment it felt like nobody had ever been ‘cool’ to Alice.

At some point during all this, the styro-clamshell-food-box showed up on the counter. Alice opened it, shrugged and apologized. I picked it up and asked, “What do I owe you?”

And Alice said, “Nothing,” so I thanked her and started toward the door.

And then Alice asked, “Sir, can I hug you?” Not “can I give you a hug?” There is a distinct difference between the two, I think. It’s the difference between needing something and wanting to give something. So, she hugged me. And I hugged her back. Maybe I needed something. And I reminded her that “it’s going to get better. You’ll see.”

Then I went home and enjoyed my shredded chicken burrito, smothered in fries and green chile.

What I Want You to Remember

I could end this with a sermon about empathy, grace, or golden rules, but you already know all that.

Just file this one away. Feed it to your internal jukebox of weird and wonderful and human moments.

For when you’re bone-tired, the universe is taking potshots at you, and all you want is a burrito. Remember Alice, and remember that being decent costs nothing, but it might feed someone else’s soul too.