I don't know how long he'd been out in the sun that day but I had to encounter him simply because I needed gas. He strolled up, hat backwards, darker than he should be even for being African-American in Texas, wearing a Spectrum t-shirt and lagging a backpack over his shoulder, his eyes wandering around, waiting for me to open the door. I waited, as he did, and when I stepped out he approached.
"Pump your gas sir? Fifty cents? No thing too much? Less?" I waved him off, a poor fat guy in the Cobalt wishing her had more than a dollar and a string of reciepts unaccounted for my check ledger in my wallet. He walked over to the pump next to mine, a shiny black Mercedes super-gloossy with a young man wearing designer shades and expensive jeans to usher on his 'chilled' look with a nice polo and loafers. He was clean shaved and probably buying more than $10 in gas at $3.88 a gallon.
He didn't look that bad off ... just a little out of luck. I figured that the decent thing to do would be to give him my last dollar. He tried refusing it, pushing the money back into my fingers, not wanting it.
"I didn't earn it", he protested. He seemed nervous to even look me in the eye.
"Yes you did", I replied. "You came to talk to me ... you worked." He still tried putting it back in my hand when I finally said, "Y'know, it's a kinda hot day. Maybe you could use a cold drink before moving on. Let me buy you a cold drink."
And with that he finally let me press the dollar into his calloused hand, smiling once at me, and I smiled back, giving it away and moving back to my car, leaving him there.
It's only a dollar, to some people, and to others it could mean going hungry or getting something ... maybe even busfare to get somewhere.
We should walk with angels, or we've wasted our lives.
Think about it for yourself.
Always,
Julian
"Pump your gas sir? Fifty cents? No thing too much? Less?" I waved him off, a poor fat guy in the Cobalt wishing her had more than a dollar and a string of reciepts unaccounted for my check ledger in my wallet. He walked over to the pump next to mine, a shiny black Mercedes super-gloossy with a young man wearing designer shades and expensive jeans to usher on his 'chilled' look with a nice polo and loafers. He was clean shaved and probably buying more than $10 in gas at $3.88 a gallon.
He didn't look that bad off ... just a little out of luck. I figured that the decent thing to do would be to give him my last dollar. He tried refusing it, pushing the money back into my fingers, not wanting it.
"I didn't earn it", he protested. He seemed nervous to even look me in the eye.
"Yes you did", I replied. "You came to talk to me ... you worked." He still tried putting it back in my hand when I finally said, "Y'know, it's a kinda hot day. Maybe you could use a cold drink before moving on. Let me buy you a cold drink."
And with that he finally let me press the dollar into his calloused hand, smiling once at me, and I smiled back, giving it away and moving back to my car, leaving him there.
It's only a dollar, to some people, and to others it could mean going hungry or getting something ... maybe even busfare to get somewhere.
We should walk with angels, or we've wasted our lives.
Think about it for yourself.
Always,
Julian
