Alert! Random Act of Kindness Found

I diverge for a blog-moment from my usual restaurant reviews to report on a random act of kindness. I must admit, as a rule, I’m a little cynical. Whether it’s because I lived in New York for the first 31 years of my life and my street smarts get the better of me, or because I watch too many true crime stories on television, I don’t know. From boy scouts crossing old ladies to the other side of the street, to people adopting animal shelter pets at the eleventh hour before the big adios, I know that people do good deeds. Sometimes these do-good stories make the last 30 seconds of the news so that we don’t all commit suicide from the despair of listening to 28 minutes of daily terror reports. Oh yeah, people hold elevator doors and occasionally let me line jump them at the super market if I only have a gallon of milk, but heck, that isn’t anything that I haven’t done for others a million times. Still, I have to wonder, if no one were looking, or if the other person never said thank you, would there be good deed doers at all? What happened recently at a Chinese Restaurant gave me a much needed dose of refreshed hope. For you fellow skeptics, be on the lookout—unmotivated, uncompensated human kindness exists-- and for no other reason except because it feels good to be kind. Case in point, this random act...

It was lunchtime on a Tuesday and I had an hour to kill before my chiropractor appointment, so I decided to grab a bite at a restaurant that I had hadn’t yet reviewed. As for style and ambience the place was akin to Shrek's swamp...okay at least a dark alleyway. The food however was stellar, but I digress. I sat in a torn up booth, alone, at the back of the restaurant and surreptitiously scribbled my notes. I ordered 3 different items. As each item arrived I’d pause to taste and then write some more. I’d occasionally glance around at my surroundings and noticed several groups of patrons enjoying their lunch. This place was obviously a well kept secret among hard-core Chinese foodies intent on a delicious bargain. In one corner of the restaurant sat the lovers, probably in their early 20’s. They giggled and flirted. In another corner sat 5 techie guys dressed in polo shirts and Dockers. They looked like professional eaters and hadn’t seen a ray of sunshine in years. At another table were two golf guys. They intermittently discussed their swing and upcoming business trip to Chicago. In another booth was an older gentlemen, I’d say in his late 60’s to early 70’s. He was at the end of his meal and his bill was already on the table. He wore a tweedy sort of jacket that kind of reminded me of an English professor I once had. By the time my second entrée arrived I noticed that the older gentlemen had left and his table was being cleared away. The head waiter came to my table and in his broken English pointed to where the man had been seated and asked me,
“Did you know that man?”
“No,” I said. His eyes looked incredulous. He didn’t seem to believe me.
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know him,” I repeated. “Why?”
“He just paid for your meal.” I was speechless (a rare occurrence).
“What?”
“Yes, he said that he wanted to pay for your meal and to tell you happy Mother’s Day.

I’m not a mother and it was long past Mother’s Day. I was at a loss for what to say next. I laughed.

“I guess it’s my lucky day.”

The other restaurant workers gathered around to hear about this rare occurrence. A total stranger buys lunch for another total stranger and doesn’t stick around to receive gratitude or recognition for his kind deed? It’s almost old-fashioned…and it felt really nice. My eyes started to brim with tears. For a few seconds I sat frozen with amazement. Why? What had I done to make this man do something so nice? I hardly noticed him—hadn’t so much as nodded in his direction to acknowledge his presence. Maybe I reminded him of someone—an unrequited love, a far away daughter, a deceased wife? Could he somehow tell that I wasn’t yet a mother and longed to be one--did he know my sadness? Or, maybe it was because we were both dining alone? Or, maybe….he just wanted to be kind. After a few seconds of mind racing my shoulders relaxed from around my ears and I simply enjoyed the fact that someone cared. I had a bounce in my step for the rest of the day.