Bennie and Me

So last night Lori was working, and I'm naturally on dinner duty. I'm always on dinner duty when Lori works - most nights I'm able to feign forgetting where we put our weekly schedule and end up making something that I feel like (like breakfast cereal). But this night I had the enthusiasm to go to the grocery store no less than two times in one night before I even started making dinner.

So the first time was the most productive in that I got everything except one small ingredient (potatoes) for shepherd's pie. Considering that shepherd's pie is basically potatoes, I couldn't think up a substitute although I really did look in the cupboard for anything that could substitute, but nothings seems to be close enough to potatoes.

So I cruised back over to the grocery store, this time with potatoes in mind. Lori had called me that day and was a little stressed coming home from work so I decided to get a red box movie. So I'm in the parking lot, with a bag of potatoes and nothing else, baby on one arm, and good attitude, and I'm renting a movie at red box. Pretty normal one might think, until you realize that the car I'm getting into cost no more than $800, has duct tape holding up the rear right window (where boy scouts were practicing rolling up and down windows manually - seriously they had to ask me how to do it, cause they all now have those buttons that do everything for you - weak flabby arm futures of our nation never had to push a plow, or ride a donkey to work, or roll their own window up/down).

So picture this destitute looking guy, happy to be alive because he has what would appear everything important in life, a happy baby, a movie, a car with duct tape, and the nourishing sustinence called Russet Potatos. And this kid probably 25 nervously apporoached me and says I quote verbatim "I don't know why, but I have this impression that I need to give you 100 dollars." And hands me a bennie. I'm very rich you know and am acquiantianced with big bills, so I know that hundreds are also called bennies. I look at the bennie and say, "uh, no you don't, I'm fine really." At this point I want to give him his money back, but he really was nervous about this, and really thought he was serving a poor, single dad, who can only afford potatoes, one solitary movie, and a car with duct tape. I almost gave him my W2 on the spot so that he would believe me that I was OK, but he said, "maybe you know someone who needs it". Cool. "I'll pay it forward, how about that?" He smiles and gets in the car with a girl (maybe he was on a date and was trying to impress.) Maybe I do need $100 - I mean, I'm very poor of NBA games lately and haven't seen one live since uh ever.

Bennie

Really props to this guy. I thought about it alot since yesterday though, and really have let it sunk in. You know his car was almost as crappy as mine (I think mine would have won a crappiest car in the parking lot contest though). He was young, and he didn't look too clean shaven, and yet he wanted to give to someone less fortunate than himself. That is an attitude I wonder If I've ever had, or if I had in youthful exuberance (you know when you were innocent still wanted to vote democratic, just kidding) but have since lost. I am going to "pay it forward" like I said I would. I'd also like to make sure that I am being generous.

I do wonder if the spirit was telling him to talk to me for some reason. Perhpas I had something to share with him, but I wasn't aware of my surroundings or any promptings I was getting. If I had it over I'd take his money and spend it on Red Box movies, but I will remember that I had the "bread of life" with my testimony and like Christ at the well should be able to testify of Jesus as the living bread and direct attention away from earthly sustinence ($100) toward a more lasting testimony which I have, which not everybody has.