The Kindness of Strangers
Friday, February 19th, 2010
I had a wonderfully decadent breakfast of beignets with my cafe au lait this morning, entirely thanks to the kindness of a diminutive server at Cafe du Monde in New Orleans, LA.
My breakfast was on the table in front of me before I realized that I’d left my cash – just over the $5.60 total for my meal I’d saved just for this morning – in my hotel. Cafe du Monde does not accept ATM or credit cards. My server suggested that I finish my meal and then go across the street to the ATM machine for cash.
Note this was the second time during this trip when satisfying my hunger depended on the kindness of a stranger. On Wednesday, the bartender at Gordon Biersch Brewery laughed with me when I pulled out my Auto Club card to pay for dinner. (Yep, I picked up the wrong credit card holder when I ran out – literally, I ran – for a quick meal.) Then he poured me a beer to go “on the house,” and waited for me to return with my Visa.
Just think: until now, I’d believed that only the Canadians were this nice.
Now, I’m sure that there are similarly accommodating Americans; however, I have yet to meet them. I recently had my brows threaded at a local salon I’ve frequented for more than a year, but which no longer accepts ATM cards. I had to call my son, who was elsewhere in the mall, to come and get my ATM card, go to the bank to withdraw cash, and return to the salon so that I could pay.
Thank goodness he was there; otherwise, who knows how long it would have taken to work off that $13 treatment?
