AN ACT OF KINDNESS
July 10th 2008 04:30
I had a rather busy day yesterday. I arrived in the office before 9:00 a.m. and started working till I noticed that it was already almost 7:00 p.m. Tired, I tidied up my desk, stretched my neck and back for a while and remembered that we have a long meeting coming up today. I wanted nothing more than to get back to my pad immediately and retire early.
In the truck, while driving, a small detail flashed into my mind. I’ve finished the last of whatever edible substance I had inside my personal ref and I have to replenish it. I headed to the supermarket instead. I don’t really need much. I picked up a few things and went for the cashier. There’s an economic crisis. I was expecting short queues but I wasn’t that lucky.
Somehow I forgot that people needed to eat, crisis or no crisis.
The signs that the people are now feeling the pinch of economic wretchedness “made in the U.S.”(sonofab…’ch, oops sorry, Filipinos used to like things with those markings!), are visible even here.
Those only added to my miseries. Not so much because I now have to keep a very tight budget for myself, but because the lines intended for “cart-pushing” shoppers became considerably shorter and my line, the line for “basket-carrying” customers, a lot longer.
I knew that I was destined for an even longer day when my line stopped moving (not that it was easily noticeable, the way these lines move around here). Soon, people started complaining. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one eager to go home, or at least, to avoid being stranded – on foot.
These supermarkets don’t necessarily give out hotel accommodations or “sofas” or folding beds to tired and irked customers who cannot even peel out of their own files to relieve themselves (I mean, even airline companies are now trying to rationalize their way out of that kind of PR service).
Someone’s credit card was holding up our line. Either it has already “maxed out” or its remaining balance was taking forever to verify. Meantime, the line kept getting longer and noisier and I was not getting any closer to the cashier.
I was near the end of the line to the back, actually. And I was looking around studying my options when I noticed those two kids who looked a bit shabbily. They cannot decide whether to join a shorter line with irate non-moving customers or a considerably longer one that was, at least, moving.
Almost practically everyone behind me already defected to that line. The last two more guys left after a few minutes. A few more minutes and I’ll be joining them. Two racks full of toys slightly to my left convinced those kids to join my line.
Why did I stay? Well, I wasn’t sure what it was at first. Some of those in front of me transferred to the other line too, so somehow,i was advancing forward. Then there was this person... It could be a guy, a gay, or a cross-dresser. I didn’t care really, until I noticed the rather smooth ankles (no I don’t have a fetish for ankles), the nicely fitted jeans that accentuate a rounded butt, small waist, tube blouse, velvety fair skinned shoulders, silky nape and a shocking black hair tucked under an equally black hat...
What about the, what? Bumper? What bump…? Owww, that! Well, I noticed the butt and the ankles, remember? She had her back on me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have missed such an important detail. Or, maybe, I would totally miss every detail as I would be a little coy and… okay, okay it’s a crap! I would still look, but I wouldn’t stare. See, I cannot even remember her footwear…
But let’s not waste space describing her - this is not about her after all. Well, it is. But not about her description, or her as a person, more like about what she did.
Let’s jump to that. She noticed those same two kids that I mentioned. But not until after she was standing immediately behind me. They caught her attention because the younger of the two kids (both girls) cannot contain herself from making appreciative comments on mini plastic household appliances that are inside those miniature houses packed inside transparent boxes. These are toys that she obviously wants but knows that they cannot afford to buy.
Their parents were not around. The older sister was carrying one pack of an item that they probably need at home. Home must be a small shanty house nearby – otherwise, they wouldn’t be all alone in this mart. The big houses around would surely have house helps that could be tasked to buy whatever their masters needed, not these kids.
The bigger girl I described above who turned out to be pretty (bumper is about the right size, too) stared at those two smaller girls for a moment then started studying those transparent boxes containing the miniature plastic household appliances. She looked as if she is old enough to be the mother of those two kids.
Our line was not yet moving, but instead of complaining, like what everyone else was doing, the bigger girl struck a conversation with the kids. “Yeah? So, which one of these do you like best? I heard her ask. The younger girl pointed at one box.
“What about this?” “I like that, too!” was the answer. “And this?” “That, too!” “But if you were to choose among them, which one would it be?” “All of them!” said the girl who answered with a laugh which was joined by the bigger girl.
“No, what if you have to choose only one, just one?” “That one!” said the girl. The older sister, who was acting a lot older than her age, looked amused by the exchange. Glad perhaps with the thought that because of the conversation her sister was having with this stranger, her sister got to feast with the toys even if they cannot buy any of it. And she looked really happy!
The credit card got verified. Our line started moving. The bigger girl grabbed the toy box and examined its content. “They are really beautiful, aren’t they?” she asked almost to herself. “Yes!” answered the little girl.
“Will you hold this for me please?” she asked the little girl as she bent to pick up her grocery basket. “Okay,” said the girl not a bit worried that the bigger girl was already taking the toy set that she likes best. There are more of those boxes in the rack and she probably thought she can always come back here and stare at them sometime.
With very few items in the hands or baskets of those in front of us, the line is moving faster now. And finally, it was my turn to pay. As I was pocketing my change, the bigger girl with those velvety shoulders took back the toy box from the little girl, asking her name…
I didn’t hear the little girl’s name. It was said rather shyly and I was already leaving. But I heard what the bigger girl said after the bar code of the toy box has been scanned to be included in her bill. She asked the bagger to put it in a separate bag then gave that bag to the little girl.
“You take good care of it okay?” she said.
Stunned, the sisters who didn’t even know the name of the bigger girl just nodded. “Thank you, miss!” they both said, almost in tears.
I have no idea where the bigger girl went after I left (Whether she took a cab, a sports car or a limousine). No one even bothered to ask her name. Not even me.
But I promised to myself, I will write her story.
Doll house living room. Source: Wikipedia
Somehow I forgot that people needed to eat, crisis or no crisis.
The signs that the people are now feeling the pinch of economic wretchedness “made in the U.S.”(sonofab…’ch, oops sorry, Filipinos used to like things with those markings!), are visible even here.
Those only added to my miseries. Not so much because I now have to keep a very tight budget for myself, but because the lines intended for “cart-pushing” shoppers became considerably shorter and my line, the line for “basket-carrying” customers, a lot longer.
I knew that I was destined for an even longer day when my line stopped moving (not that it was easily noticeable, the way these lines move around here). Soon, people started complaining. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one eager to go home, or at least, to avoid being stranded – on foot.
These supermarkets don’t necessarily give out hotel accommodations or “sofas” or folding beds to tired and irked customers who cannot even peel out of their own files to relieve themselves (I mean, even airline companies are now trying to rationalize their way out of that kind of PR service).
Someone’s credit card was holding up our line. Either it has already “maxed out” or its remaining balance was taking forever to verify. Meantime, the line kept getting longer and noisier and I was not getting any closer to the cashier.
I was near the end of the line to the back, actually. And I was looking around studying my options when I noticed those two kids who looked a bit shabbily. They cannot decide whether to join a shorter line with irate non-moving customers or a considerably longer one that was, at least, moving.
Almost practically everyone behind me already defected to that line. The last two more guys left after a few minutes. A few more minutes and I’ll be joining them. Two racks full of toys slightly to my left convinced those kids to join my line.
Why did I stay? Well, I wasn’t sure what it was at first. Some of those in front of me transferred to the other line too, so somehow,i was advancing forward. Then there was this person... It could be a guy, a gay, or a cross-dresser. I didn’t care really, until I noticed the rather smooth ankles (no I don’t have a fetish for ankles), the nicely fitted jeans that accentuate a rounded butt, small waist, tube blouse, velvety fair skinned shoulders, silky nape and a shocking black hair tucked under an equally black hat...
What about the, what? Bumper? What bump…? Owww, that! Well, I noticed the butt and the ankles, remember? She had her back on me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have missed such an important detail. Or, maybe, I would totally miss every detail as I would be a little coy and… okay, okay it’s a crap! I would still look, but I wouldn’t stare. See, I cannot even remember her footwear…
But let’s not waste space describing her - this is not about her after all. Well, it is. But not about her description, or her as a person, more like about what she did.
Let’s jump to that. She noticed those same two kids that I mentioned. But not until after she was standing immediately behind me. They caught her attention because the younger of the two kids (both girls) cannot contain herself from making appreciative comments on mini plastic household appliances that are inside those miniature houses packed inside transparent boxes. These are toys that she obviously wants but knows that they cannot afford to buy.
Pic source: Wikipedia
Their parents were not around. The older sister was carrying one pack of an item that they probably need at home. Home must be a small shanty house nearby – otherwise, they wouldn’t be all alone in this mart. The big houses around would surely have house helps that could be tasked to buy whatever their masters needed, not these kids.
The bigger girl I described above who turned out to be pretty (bumper is about the right size, too) stared at those two smaller girls for a moment then started studying those transparent boxes containing the miniature plastic household appliances. She looked as if she is old enough to be the mother of those two kids.
Our line was not yet moving, but instead of complaining, like what everyone else was doing, the bigger girl struck a conversation with the kids. “Yeah? So, which one of these do you like best? I heard her ask. The younger girl pointed at one box.
“What about this?” “I like that, too!” was the answer. “And this?” “That, too!” “But if you were to choose among them, which one would it be?” “All of them!” said the girl who answered with a laugh which was joined by the bigger girl.
“No, what if you have to choose only one, just one?” “That one!” said the girl. The older sister, who was acting a lot older than her age, looked amused by the exchange. Glad perhaps with the thought that because of the conversation her sister was having with this stranger, her sister got to feast with the toys even if they cannot buy any of it. And she looked really happy!
The credit card got verified. Our line started moving. The bigger girl grabbed the toy box and examined its content. “They are really beautiful, aren’t they?” she asked almost to herself. “Yes!” answered the little girl.
“Will you hold this for me please?” she asked the little girl as she bent to pick up her grocery basket. “Okay,” said the girl not a bit worried that the bigger girl was already taking the toy set that she likes best. There are more of those boxes in the rack and she probably thought she can always come back here and stare at them sometime.
With very few items in the hands or baskets of those in front of us, the line is moving faster now. And finally, it was my turn to pay. As I was pocketing my change, the bigger girl with those velvety shoulders took back the toy box from the little girl, asking her name…
I didn’t hear the little girl’s name. It was said rather shyly and I was already leaving. But I heard what the bigger girl said after the bar code of the toy box has been scanned to be included in her bill. She asked the bagger to put it in a separate bag then gave that bag to the little girl.
“You take good care of it okay?” she said.
Stunned, the sisters who didn’t even know the name of the bigger girl just nodded. “Thank you, miss!” they both said, almost in tears.
I have no idea where the bigger girl went after I left (Whether she took a cab, a sports car or a limousine). No one even bothered to ask her name. Not even me.
But I promised to myself, I will write her story.
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