Sunny Samaritan

Houston has been drenched by an almost constant downpour of rain everyday for almost a week.  Today’s no different.

It’s been a big downer, literally and figuratively.  This afternoon, however, I was quite surprised to get a little ray of sunshine as the felines and canines poured to the ground from above.

My ray came in the form of a well-dressed older woman walking into Barnes & Noble as I walked out. The set-up began thirty minutes earlier when I made the decision to leave my umbrella, jacket, and rain-boots behind as I made a quick stop to browse the shelves and grab some coffee.  The rain picked up significantly on the way out, and I hesitated with whether or not to step into the storm with my new boots on.  I looked at my car, turned back to the store, back to the car, and regretted my unpreparedness with each glance.  I knew it was forecasted to be stormin’-norman all afternoon and night but thought I’d get out in time.  Unfortunately, I heavily underestimated how long my “quick” stop would take.  The lady noticed my dilemma and offered me her umbrella.

I declined and explained to her that my car was pretty close.

“Are you sure?”, she asked.  “You could take it and then drive back up to hand it back.”

“Oh, no.  That’s okay, really.  My car is pretty close.  Thank you though.”

I grabbed the loose fabric of my dress, clutched my caramel macchiato, and ran 5 seconds until I reached the shelter of my car.  Once inside the Kia and out of the storm I smiled at how nice her offer was.  She was willing to hand over her umbrella to a complete stranger and wait outside just to save me (and my “Fancy-Friday”-outfit) from getting drenched.  Sometimes I lose faith in the goodness of people and lack of courtesy that happens so often in crowded cities, but not today.  Thank you to her, to her offer, but most of all, thank you for being a kind, considerate, and lovely Houstonian.

By Order

Tonight he looked over at me with a smile and a nod signaling permission to approach the counter. Usually he works in the cafe area near the magazines, but today his duty was scanning purchases at the front of the bookstore.  I walked up to the Barnes & Noble cashier clutching the most recent issues of “Allure” and “Glamour“. He already knew me.

“Green tea latte?”

It’s the same way he greets me every time I walk back to the cafe to order my nonfat, no foam, two-pump green tea latte before browsing among the books. I smiled. “Haha. No, not today. I went for the shaken green tea instead.”

“Oh, trying something different. How was it?”

“Delicious.”

“Great!” He rips off the receipt and asked, “Did you need a bag?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, have a great night.”

“Thanks. You, too, man.”

Next time I see him I plan on actually introducing myself. It will probably go a little something like, “Hi, I’m Jessica, but you can call me ‘green tea latte’ for short.”

The Littlest Gentleman

Postal Offices during this time of the year are tantamount to anxiously volunteering to take a stroll in a stamp-filled Purgatory.  Time drags on as the person in front of you shuffles a couple inches further every few minutes.  Sporadic interruptions from people reaching for specific forms located on the other side serve as the only distraction from the monotonous process.  Progress may even come to a complete standstill as various customers not wanting to get in line distract the lonely postal employee working from being as efficient as possible.  Ridiculous.

I walked in on Saturday morning and, had it not been for my delay in carrying out the “Man Plan”, I would’ve walked right back out.  The line looked more like a train of human cabooses snaking out of the main service area pressing up against the farthest wall of post office boxes.  One could see without walking in how obviously busy it was from the fact that each parking spot was taken up; the lot was overflowing with cars.  I stealthily zoomed in as a car backed out.  Across the lot a man and two children were parking at the same time.  Waiting has never really been my thing, especially with line-cutters, people trying to take any shortcut possible to avoid waiting, and the overall lack of observing proper line decorum.  An inherent need to get Em’s package in the mail (along with the desire to get rid of Christmas clutter) allowed me to momentarily overlook the number of people already there long enough to get in line myself.

I hurried into the building to get in front of the man who arrived at the same time I did.  He trailed a few seconds behind with his two young boys in tow.  There was no counter outside of the main office area, so I opted to save my arms by laying the two packages I had with me on the floor.  About a minute later I heard a small voice coming from behind me.  “Umm, Miss?”

I turned around and noticed the older little boy, maybe five at the most, staring up at me.  “Yes?” I asked, pausing for his response.

“If you need help with those, I can carry one for you.”  I was taken aback for a second.  His offer is probably one of the cutest things a child has ever said to me, especially since the packages he was so eagerly willing to carry were almost his size.

I smiled the biggest awwOhmygodyouaresocute-smile my face could possibly handle.  “Oh, well thank you.  That’s very sweet, but I think they’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Okay, Miss.”  He smiled up at me before returning to play with his little brother.  Nice kid.