My father and his wife went out to dinner about a week ago. They were seated at the bar because the place was packed, it being a Friday night. They had their pre-dinner drinks, their apps, and their entrees. When my father asked for the bill, at the end of the meal, he was told by the bartender that someone had already taken care of it. My father owns a business, so he assumed it was a colleague, or someone from the neighborhood. He looked around the restaurant, but was met by unfamiliar eyes. He flagged down the bartender, "Hey, can you please tell me who paid our bill," he inquired.
"Love to Sir, but the gentlemen requested that this stay anonymous," replied the man behind the bar.
My father is a pretty persistent, and persuasive man, so after a little convincing, the bartender finally nodded his head toward the end of the bar, where a man sat alone. My father had never seen this man before, and neither had his wife. They grabbed their coats, and walked toward the man, my father reaching for his wallet.
"We'd like to thank you for picking up our tab, but there must be some mistake," my father started in. "I don't think we know one another."
"No, no we don't," the man said, looking up from his Glenlevit on the rocks. "My wife died about a year ago," he began. "We were married for 30 years and I treated her horribly," the man paused to take a healthy pull from his glass. "But everytime we went out to eat, which wasn't very often, she would want to buy a random stranger dinner. So we would. Now since she has been gone, I have tried to honor her memory by doing the same thing when I go out to have a drink or a meal, and tonight, you were the random strangers," the man smiled a sad smile.
My father and his wife sat and talked with the man for 45 minutes or so, and listened to his story. The man encouraged them to keep drinking, or order dessert, but they were content with just listening to him. My father shook his hand, and they left the restaurant, arm in arm.
I met my father for breaksfast this past Saturday, and he told me this story, and I immediately felt so touched. I literally could feel my faith in humanity being restored as he recited the previous weekend's events. That wasn't the end, though.
He and his wife went out to eat on Friday, and again, it was a busy night at a busy restaurant, so they chose to sit at the bar. They were halfway through their meal when an older woman, in her late 70's, wearing thick glasses, a heavy coat, and carrying a large purse, came in to eat by herself. She ordered herself a drink, a full plate of ribs, and dessert. As my father and his wife watched this old woman clean the ribs to the bone, both their minds crossed, and my father's wife turned and said, "Hey, how about we buy her dinner tonight?"
They worked things out with the bartender, and the woman didn't have a clue that it was them. They were already halfway home when the server dropped the check, so they didn't see the look of confusion on her face when she was never handed a bill, only an empty booklet.
These random acts are what makes life so incredible. It is easy to see the world as a very depressing place, especially when faced with the emphasis that people put on money. To know that there are still individuals who enjoy the feeling of helping others more than the recognition that comes with it is truly refreshing.
DISCLAIMER: PLEASE DO NOT GO INTO RESTAURANTS ON BUSY NIGHTS AND EXPECT THE ABOVE MENTIONED SCENARIOS. THESE SCENARIOS WERE REMOTE INCIDENTS, AND IN NO WAY REFLECT THE GENERAL POPULATION OF MOST RESTAURANT-GOERS.
