This morning I started the day with my usual Friday treat: a venti white chocolate mocha and a toasted chonga bagel with cream cheese. (I know, I know, it's soul rotting corporate destruction. But I'm addicted.) Reaching into my purse after pulling away from the order board, it's clear my wallet has not come along for the ride.
Pulling out of line will mess up their delivery, so I hope the woman I speak to most weeks is there at the window. Nope. It's a cute blond guy I've never seen before. I brace to fess up, figuring I'll let them know and then take off in shame. I explain, saying I just didn't want to pull off without letting them know. There's a pause and for some odd reason I suggest a swap of collateral until I return with cash: my cell phone for the goods. I didn't want them to waste the items, nor did I want them to wait for my round trip home and back, getting cold. After a moment's pause, he says, "Just the offer is good enough for me."
With coffee and bagel in hand, I race home, grab the wayward wallet, and return to the line. At the order board, I relay to the woman who is speaking that I have no order, I'm just there to pay for the order I couldn't earlier. "You're so honest!" breaks in the man who had served me earlier.
Maybe, but overall I'm not stupid -- you don't fuck with your supplier of early morning go-juice and addictive cheddar-onion-garlic goodness. Creamy creamy cheesey cheesey. (If you're not yet acquainted with Foamy, please see 5 More Minutes. It's from the golden age of Foamy; I haven't seen many good ones outta there for a looong time.)
In all seriousness, I thanked him profusely for being trusting. No, no, he said, thanking me for being honest, and giving him a chance to work with such awesome people. We had a love fest for a few minutes.
It really was a great start to a great day.