Maybe I was a little harsh, or maybe I was a bit too cold-hearted - especially during the holiday season - but I'm still proud of my words and my actions because I stayed strong. Let me explain, as per usual:
Some time last week, in the wee hours of the morning, I per chanced to notice that some of the customers in the drive-thru line looked a little uncomfortable. The source of annoyance wasn't from my service, either (which is usually the case). This time, the source of their discomfort seemed to be something, or some person directly in front of them in line.
When the drive-thru line died down a bit I decided to investigate - Kolchak-style.
There was a man - a Caucasian male, about six foot, nicely dressed, with a blue coat and a white ball cap - standing just outside the door. He appeared to be asking the customers for money.
I swung open the door. "What's the deal home-skillet?"
My smooth deliver and outrageous diction threw off the Caucasian male for a moment. He collected himself.
"I only have two dollars and my car ran out of gas and I live in Dearborn Heights and..."
"Whoa, whoa, I understand that we all hit low points, buddy, you don't have to remind me of that, I've seen my share, but why don't you use some of that money to call someone, or use a credit card, or debit card for gas."
"Can you just give me some money."
"You're not listening to me. Use your credit card. Use your cell phone. Call someone. I don't have any money. I don't even have any pockets in my uniform."
He didn't tell me that he didn't have a cell phone, or a credit card; instead, he said, again: "Can you just give me some money."
Yes, I was mean, and I told him to leave, but I have been scammed too many times trying to be George Bailey. And maybe, if this Caucasian male, about six foot, would have caught me at the beginning of my shift maybe I would have been George Bailey, but it was the end, and by the end I am almost always morphed into: Kolchak: The Night Stalker.
I am sorry, that's just the way it goes sometimes.