I'm not, nor have I ever been, a big fan of fast food. One fast food joint I have regularly frequented over the years, however, is Captain D's (mostly 'cause it is my mother and father's favorite after-church-on-Sunday restaurant). Until tonight, I don't think I ever asked myself, "What's so great 'bout Captain D's?" Asking now, I know.
A feller who lives down the street from me - a fine feller and a trusted golfing buddy - is undergoing treatment for lung cancer. As if that weren't bad enough, his wife left him and his two children two days after he returned home from the hospital after having one of his lungs removed. He is in bad, bad shape.
Early this afternoon, I called my neighbor - nay, my friend - and told him that I would bring him and his kids dinner tonight. He said baked fish was one foodstuff that he could eat and keep down with regularity; thus, I decided to hit my local Captain D's on my way home for him, his, and me.
Captain D's was quite busy; thus, the manager was working the register and helping place orders on trays and bags. While I was standing in line, my mother called me to ask me a question. During our conversation, I told her that I was picking up dinner for "Vince," whom she knows as well, and his kids.
As mothers are wont to do, she then asked me a dozen questions 'bout Vince - a dozen plus, really - each of which I dutifully answered. Then ...
The manager, who was taking orders, asked me if I was the customer purchasing dinner for a cancer-stricken friend. As soon as I could muster a "yes," Mr. Manager told me that my order was on the house. I was so taken aback, it took me a good half-minute to collect my thoughts and place the order I had in mind before I even walked in the D's door.
When I didn't ask for any drinks with my order, Mr. Manager asked if I'd like drinks. Since my order was already well over $20, I said, "You've done enough!" He wouldn't take "no" for an answer, and I called Vince to see what he and his kids wanted to drink. While I had him on the phone, I told him Captain D's was providing dinner.
Vince insisted on speaking with the manager. As I handed Mr. Manager my cell phone, I noticed that most of the folks standing in line behind me had "If you knew how many important things I'm going to do after leaving Captain D's, you'd be floored" looks on their faces. I felt like yelling, at the top of my lungs, "This restaurant's manager is using my cell phone to talk to someone who is dying of cancer. He's not only dying of cancer, but he is now raising his two children ... alone. You don't know how ****in' good you have it!"
Vince was looking at me through his kitchen window when I pulled up in his driveway. As he opened the door, he said, and I quote, "He didn't have to do that." He didn't, but he did. I guess I - we - should never underestimate the capacity of our fellow man to "do unto others," indeed.
Goodness, I cannot tell you how good vinegar-soaked fried fish from Captain D's tasted tonight.
Note: I did not mention Mr. Manager's name because (a) I do not wish for him to get "nut-kicked" for fronting a $30 bill, and (b) he did not ask for any praise. I intend on dispatching a card to him tomorrow. If he gives me the okay to use his name, I will give him BIG props here.
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