photo by Jackie Hobbins
My husband and I have just had a romantic dinner at an Italian restaurant in San Francisco. We are on a work trip for him, without kids, and the whole week has been slightly magical. I’ve been able to finish a meal without stopping to change a diaper, to eat my own food without my ravenous children scavenging it off my plate, and I’ve had multiple decent conversations with my husband that remind me of our early dating years and of the time we fell in love.
After this jewel of a dinner, I’ve decided I want dessert. I spend ten or so minutes deciding that Chocolate Panna Cotta is the way to go. We decide to get it to go to eat it back in the hotel room, and wait a bit for it to arrive. I politely participate in flirty conversation while secretly salivating about the creamy chocolate treat. After the bill, a brown paper box arrives, neatly tucked up in a paper sack with crisp cut handles, a set of cutlery ready for our indulgence. I can’t wait to cuddle up in our room and enjoy.
As we walk from the restaurant on the rainy streets of the city, we are interrupted by a woman with frizzy hair, a worn jacket, faded, black, relaxed-fit jeans and sneakers. She asks if she can have our leftovers. I think silently, “Well, these aren’t really leftovers. It’s dessert that we are taking back to the hotel.” But really, it isn’t silent at all: I’ve actually said it aloud. A little taken-aback, she says, “Do you have two dollars? I’m two dollars short of a Subway sandwich. Please!”
My husband and I just don’t carry cash these days. I physically do not have two dollars to hand her. I tell her so, and she throws her hands in the air as we walk away. I turn to hubby, and he says, “I thought you were going to give it to her.”
Then it hits me: I am a total dick. I cannot believe what I have done. Because I happen to be on vacation, I just took a vacation from being a decent human being.
I go back down the stairs, find her and say, “This is for you. It is Chocolate Panna Cotta. I hope you like it.” I give her a hug, a real one. She says “Thank you.”
Even though I went back, I can’t help but feeling guilty the rest of the night. This woman, another human being who is hungry and has undoubtedly had a much harder time in life then I ever have, asked me for food. She didn’t even ask for money, so there wasn’t any mistaking what it would be used for. But I was so wrapped up in what my night should be, that I missed two things: an opportunity to help another human being, and an opportunity to feel good about it. I only wish I would have been quick enough on my feet to have thought of buying her the Subway sandwich before we walked away.
The more I’ve thought about it, there were three issues with this situation:
- I was hesitant to hand out cash to someone that was homeless (probably because of this).
- I didn’t physically have cash to hand out anyway.
- I was so wrapped up in my own silly chocolate fantasy that I missed the whole humanity of the moment.
Those first two problems are an easy fix. My hubby and I have decided we are going to buy a handful of $5 Subway cards to keep on hand for just this sort of situation. The third issue though–that one is my own to deal with. I need to be a little more ready and take a pause before I reply to someone in need. Just a brief moment to check in—make sure I am being my best self.
How do you make sure you are being your best self?