JournalFrom the Friend of Frank archive
A gift for Thanksgiving
A reader sent me an account of something that happened to her that day. I print it without changing a comma.
While it's still Thanksgiving, I'd like to share an email received earlier today. It's from Wendy Tucker, an esteemed West Coast Friend of Frank, who sent it to 14 of her own friends and gave me permission to pass it along.
(c) Pinterest
It's about ... well, I'll just reprint it and let you see for yourself. The next voice you hear will be Wendy's. I haven't changed a comma.
I had the weirdest thing happen earlier today. So weird that I must publicize it.
I was in the market. Checkout line. Ready to tap my card. The guy behind me said, ‘Excuse me, but may I pay for your groceries?’
EXACT WORDS.
I was wearing black sweatpants and a grey hoodie. No makeup. Large basic fabric purse. Groceries consisted of 5 lbs of shredded cabbage, 5 lbs of raw carrots and a 96 oz. can of tomato puree. Total was $12.67. I was bewildered and said something like, ‘Oh, thank you but it really isn’t necessary.’
I figured I must look in dire need of help. I’m not.
The guy (young) replied that he just wanted to do this, that it was Thanksgiving and that he wanted to do something nice for someone. The checkout young woman was watching this and said something like, ‘Yeah. It’s Thanksgiving. Let him. It’s o.k.’
Before I could say anything he took his phone, somehow scanned something on the register and paid the check. Smiling all the while. I was obviously gratified and touched but also fucking bewildered.
Who Does This. Unsolicited generosity.
I thanked him — a lot. I told him in my 82 years of life I’d never experienced anything like this before. He repeated something about Thanksgiving and wanting to do this. Then I asked him if I looked impoverished & he said I did not. He added that he’d decided he would pay for groceries for whoever was in front of him in checkout line. I told him I was going to email every single person I know in the entire world to announce his generosity.
FULL DISCLOSURE: I do send emails to other people, but I figure that each of you will appreciate this.
Oh—his name is Ryan. I didn’t ask his last name.
In this time of political acrimony, fear, concerns for survival and utter dishonesty it’s nice to experience such kindness.
Happy Thanksgiving to Ryan and to all of us.
-- Wendy who is still reeling in West Hollywood.