A recent weekend consisted of lessons in Karma at work. The good kind, even.
It started on Friday evening after work, with a run to Safeway, instead of driving across town to the bank for cash.
Standing in line with my package of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers, because that was the first thing I saw, and they are fun, I waited in what felt like an absurdly long line, but was probably no different than usual.
The customer in front of me noticed I had no cart, but a single package of crackers. She smiled at me and insisted that I go in front of her and take her place in line. I was astonished.
Over the course of the last few months, I admit to feeling more jaded than usual with humanity. It just seems that now, more than ever, it’s every man (woman and child) for themselves. The seemingly never-ending tide of bad and sad news from any and all outlets never appears to let up. But I digress.
I thanked her and completed my simple transaction for the smiling Goldfish and cash over purchase amount, while she and I chatted a bit.
I left the store feeling something vaguely familiar. It was… connection. I felt a connection with someone because they had done something nice, for no reason, to make something easier for me; someone she didn’t know. I felt good inside, knowing that someone had noticed me. I wondered if most people feel that way.
Saturday morning, The Husband and I went to breakfast at the very crowded Black Bear Diner, and the service was fantastic; very friendly and attentive, despite the weekend chaos. Once finished, we left a tip in accordance with excellent service, and decided to take a drive down to Monterey to hit some antique shops in the hope of finding the ever-elusive, large, vintage hanging produce scale that would fit perfectly in our tin sign-walled kitchen. Stand back, kids. This is how we -slowly- roll.
We arrived at Cannery Row, and all singing badly to 80’s One-Hit Wonders came to a halt, when we discovered that we had given all of our smallish bills for the tip back at the restaurant, and have now scrounged from the console only 85¢ for the meter. That, plus the 17 minutes left on it from the elderly couple who just drove away, gave us a total of 44 minutes to play in antique stores and admire coastal plant life.
A cute young couple with a baby, better prepared, and putting copious amounts of change into their meter a few feet away, overheard our quandary and put a dollar in quarters into our meter, giving us an hour and 20 minutes. They even wanted to know if we needed more. We thanked them profusely, but declined any extra.
In our favorite antique store, a few minutes later, lo and behold, hung the perfect large, vintage hanging produce scale we’ve been looking for, for the last two years; and it was red! Karma whispered, “Buy it, now,” of course.
We couldn’t believe how Karma was working .We hoped the elderly couple and the young couple with a baby had good things happen to them that day, as we walked back to the car, leaving 10 minutes for the next person on the meter.
Standing in line with my package of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers, because that was the first thing I saw, and they are fun, I waited in what felt like an absurdly long line, but was probably no different than usual.
The customer in front of me noticed I had no cart, but a single package of crackers. She smiled at me and insisted that I go in front of her and take her place in line. I was astonished.
Over the course of the last few months, I admit to feeling more jaded than usual with humanity. It just seems that now, more than ever, it’s every man (woman and child) for themselves. The seemingly never-ending tide of bad and sad news from any and all outlets never appears to let up. But I digress.
I thanked her and completed my simple transaction for the smiling Goldfish and cash over purchase amount, while she and I chatted a bit.
I left the store feeling something vaguely familiar. It was… connection. I felt a connection with someone because they had done something nice, for no reason, to make something easier for me; someone she didn’t know. I felt good inside, knowing that someone had noticed me. I wondered if most people feel that way.
Saturday morning, The Husband and I went to breakfast at the very crowded Black Bear Diner, and the service was fantastic; very friendly and attentive, despite the weekend chaos. Once finished, we left a tip in accordance with excellent service, and decided to take a drive down to Monterey to hit some antique shops in the hope of finding the ever-elusive, large, vintage hanging produce scale that would fit perfectly in our tin sign-walled kitchen. Stand back, kids. This is how we -slowly- roll.
We arrived at Cannery Row, and all singing badly to 80’s One-Hit Wonders came to a halt, when we discovered that we had given all of our smallish bills for the tip back at the restaurant, and have now scrounged from the console only 85¢ for the meter. That, plus the 17 minutes left on it from the elderly couple who just drove away, gave us a total of 44 minutes to play in antique stores and admire coastal plant life.
A cute young couple with a baby, better prepared, and putting copious amounts of change into their meter a few feet away, overheard our quandary and put a dollar in quarters into our meter, giving us an hour and 20 minutes. They even wanted to know if we needed more. We thanked them profusely, but declined any extra.
In our favorite antique store, a few minutes later, lo and behold, hung the perfect large, vintage hanging produce scale we’ve been looking for, for the last two years; and it was red! Karma whispered, “Buy it, now,” of course.
We couldn’t believe how Karma was working .We hoped the elderly couple and the young couple with a baby had good things happen to them that day, as we walked back to the car, leaving 10 minutes for the next person on the meter.
Reach Kelly Sinon at sk*****@ao*.com
