To the man behind me at Dunkin Donuts:
I wonder if you know that you made my day. Whatever your intentions for buying me a coconut donut, you made me smile.
Where are you now? Where do you live? Were you standing in line at that Dunkin Donuts in Penn Station to grab a latte before catching the Path train to New Jersey, or were you simply passing through on your way to take the 1/9 subway up to your Central Park apartment? Do you have a family? Where did you go to college…did you go to college? You were wearing a suit and tie, which makes me think that you were coming from the office and needed a little coffee to give you a jolt after a long day.
I often wonder about the lives of the people I pass on the streets, in stores, on subways, or in restaurants. In New York, however, it is hard to keep everybody straight and distinguish between one darkly dressed person and the next. But now, you sir, stick out in my mind. I am intrigued by you and find myself suddenly impatient with the density and commotion of city life that I usually enjoy. Since the odds are against coming across the same person in the city twice, I will most likely never see you again. But I want you to know that I am grateful, and just like the random woman who once decided to pay my toll in Massachusetts, you will be remembered as part of a unique cast of characters in my life that have made me appreciate the small things.
Thank you,
Chuckie
