Today is smoke-free day 352, and it's also time for Heads or Tails. This week: HEADS - Royal.
On my recent trip to Tulsa to see my sweetheart, Tom, I did like I always do and ate my way through the trip. Places like Whataburger, Braum's, Zio's (Italian Kitchen, oh my), even Cheddar's just don't exist here in the Northwest. Very late one night we went to the Whataburger drive-thru so that I could have the yummy biscuit and gravy served after 11PM. The woman taking our order was just really super sweet and spunky to a point noticeable enough that we mentioned how darn nice she was as we drove away.
I like nice people. I like good service. I like biscuits and gravy at 11PM while on vacation seeing my man.
The woman was about my age, probably older, and I just thought she would be so well suited for some kind of job that didn't involve standing on your feet all night but where you just had to be super nice during daytime hours in a nice cushy chair. Maybe she loved it there. I mean, really it's none of my business.
Fast forward several hours later.
Since breakfast is something I do on vacation, especially when there is a biscuit with gravy with my name all over it, back we went to the same Whataburger. The super sweet, very nice, cute and spunky woman that dealt with us in the drive-thru was still there, but she was in the lobby, still in uniform with all of her stuff. It kind of struck me that we'd just gotten a nice long sleep while she'd been toiling away all night, and I hoped she was going home for some well deserved rest.
Not that it's any of my business, and not that I'd normally notice, but if you knew how sweet and nice and cute and spunky and just good this woman struck me as, you'd notice, too. Maybe not, but I did. Like I said, I really like nice people. [a quick edit to add that Tom reminded me that she chirped out a cheerful "good morning" to us when we came in, another reason this all probably struck me. K, back to the story.]
The story unfolded as she and her co-worker chatted across the lobby - not loud and rude, or anything, and we were the only ones in there, so it wasn't noisy - and as it did, I just wanted more than anything for someone like Oprah to come pick out this good and sweet and nice and spunky and cute woman and make her queen for a day or something.
Turns out she'd called her husband/boyfriend/man hours before to come pick her up from work. Turns out that instead of coming to pick her up after a long overnight shift (I remember how exhausting it can be), Mr. Wonderful decided he'd rather go back to sleep for a few hours instead. It was pretty clear that this was not an accidental fall back to sleep, but a deliberate "you can wait" kind of fall back to sleep.
And so she sat there in her uniform hours after her shift had ended.
Clearly exhausted. Clearly unhappy.
When the jerk finally showed up in his older muscle car I hoped he'd make it up to her by drawing her a hot bath, maybe a glass of wine or hot tea, then making sure everything stayed quiet so that she could get some blissful sleep, and then at least 8 hours later waking her up with
...and I doubt any of that happened.
For some reason this sweet woman's smiling face has stuck in my mind since then, and whenever I think about her, I always hope that someone treats her extra special, like Queen for the Day, because someone as kind as her, and you can just tell she is always so kind because it radiated from her (surely you've met good people like that, right? where you can just tell instantly?), deserves nothing less. I hope that she knows it.
Edited to add: MamaFlo's comment below got me thinking that I wish I had said something to this woman. If I knew then that I'd still be thinking about her now, I would have. I didn't want to come across the wrong way, sounding condescending or something, but while I was a friendly customer because that's how I am, I could have said something at least about how nice she was, let her know. I've done that in the past, to someone's flabbergasted manager, actually. I will try to remember this. I will make a point of it. And next time I'm in Tulsa, I'm sure to return there for a biscuit and gravy... :)