Fifth Face: Fast Food Replay
I realize that Burger King has become a staple in my blog entries, but for good reason: I pass it every day and chance to enter it on occasion. Afternoons, mornings, late nights (they turn off the lights at 3 a.m., so I suppose this may qualify as early morning); it ceases to get tiresome. Which is why, perhaps, it has been the site of more than one monumental event. The first involved a girl (an infatuation), and one that I don't wish to revive any time in the near future; therefore, I will state simply that Burger King became - for maybe 45 minutes (at that time) - the land of dreams (my apologies, Mr. Walt Disney, but you've been one-upped). The second event was not as personal, but it was far more influential. I had entered the side doors - passing two presumably homeless men while doing so - and was readying myself for the order. Standing next to me was a towering individual, dressed entirely in black. I recognized him from one of my classes, but as expected, we shared no interaction. He placed his order, paid the money, and took his paper bag from the cashier. I, on the other hand, was forced to wait for my food to be packaged and pushed, so even if I hoped to at least say a word to him, the opportunity never came (this turned out to be a blessing, because the absence of words made the proceeding event even more impressive). No more than 30 seconds later - while I was still standing at the counter - one of the two homeless mene entered the establishment, grinning, holding a paper bag. He passed me on his way to the restroom, muttering three words: "He's an angel." I said: "Who is?" And he responded back with: "Gabriel." An obvious allusion to the biblical figure, I was still at a loss for reply. He kept walking, and the thought of the paper bag in his hand (not there when I originally passed him) failed to register in my mind. As I left those same side doors, I found to my somewhat charitable delight that the individual dressed in black was conversing with the second homeless man. I found this oddly reassuring, in a way that is perhaps beyond extensive comment. No matter, what struck me as being of the greatest import was the absence of the paper bag that he had taken from the cashier about two minutes before. Things finally clicked, cogs began to turn, and I could not help but smile. I left, thinking only about this occurrence. I had never witnessed something so subtle before, so inwardly kind. But it made me happy. And I liked it.