You Never Know When Karma Might Come A-Callin'

Saturday, I went to the Dead Mouse Smelling Post Office to mail my credit card bill. It's closer than the main post office over in Sis-Town. Saves time, and cuts down on T-Hoe's appetite for gas, which costs $100 for a full tank. Good thing I keep topping him off at half a tank. It takes one day longer to mail things at the DMSPO, but with two weeks until the due date, I didn't think that would be a problem.

 

Some items I will drop in the drive-thru mailbox across the street from the DMSPO, by a little park with a picnic table, a plaque, and a sometimes-operating fountain. Not my bills. Last week, there was some weirdo gyrating to loud music in that little park, all alone. Looked suspicious to me. Especially after reading about mailboxes being robbed, and people's checks being made out to the thieves and deposited with a phone app. So only unimportant mail gets dropped in that box by me. There's a safer box at the main post office, at the back of their parking lot, within view of the loading dock.

 

Anyhoo... as I left the DMSPO, and turned down the side street next to it, a youngish guy jaywalked out in front of T-Hoe, dribbling a basketball. Not very well. I was in no hurry, so didn't have a surge of road rage, or rev T-Hoe's engine. I proceeded down the street as Jay Walker cut through between the license office, and the now-closed daycare where a sinkhole belching smoke from an underground fire appeared several years ago.

 

My next stop was the Gas Station Chicken Store, and then the Liquor Store, for scratchers. I had $46 of winnings to cash in. The Liquor Store was busy. I was third in line, and had to wait down an aisle. That place is as cramped as the Gas Station Chicken Store. While I was waiting, Jay Walker dribbled through the door! And started to stop right in front of me.

"Oh! Sorry about that!"

Jay had not seen me amongst the liquor bottle shelves. Upon hearing the apology, I realized that Jay was a she. Dressed in jean shorts, t-shirt, and backwards cap, I had judged that book by its cover.

Anyhoo... the two customers ahead of me bought mass quantities of cigarettes. Probably cost more than T-Hoe's gas! But I wasn't listening to the amount, and they paid by debit card. When it was my turn, I discovered that the Liquor Store was out of some tickets I wanted. So I had to take some cash back!

As I minced my way down the little blacktop ramp outside the door, I heard Jay Walker ask:

"How much is your cheapest vape? Oh. Darn. I'm 90 cents short."

Well. I could have kept going. But I fought the force of gravity, and turned around. I stepped back inside the door.

"You know what? You're 90 cents short? Here's a dollar."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

"Thanks! Really. Thank you!"

"That's okay. One morning, I gave two dollars to a lady for whiskey in the Gas Station Chicken Store. I like to help out when I can."

"Gosh. You are so nice! Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

I know. It wasn't much. Jay Walker had seen me get way more than a dollar back from my scratcher cash-in. It would have been selfish of me to take that money and run, when Jay Walker was in need of a vape, and denied it for a lack of 90 cents.

Yeah, yeah. Like Rachel said in Coyote Ugly after Violet climbed up on the bar and sang a song to stop a melee... "She sang along with a jukebox. Let's not start polishing a Grammy." I know it's not much. I'm not tooting my own horn. 

 

Sometimes, it just pays to be nice. 

I found two coins at my next stop, I made The Pony say, "Aww," and I had a good scratcher week. Today (Wednesday) I won $100 on a $10 ticket. 

That's pretty good for a dollar worth of niceness.