Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Today was Gary’s birthday and a Soldiers Home field trip to the Muckleshoot Casino—no way was I missing that. On my way to Auburn, I stopped at a cute gift shop to get Gary a couple little birthday goodies. I was running a little late (imagine!), so as soon as I walked in, I asked whether they had any good-luck charms. I mentioned I wanted just little tokens to pass around, since I was meeting a group of veterans. They pointed me to some sweet four-leaf-clover medallions, and I’d found a good birthday card, and I was getting a tiny bit impatient waiting to pay. The woman behind the counter stood there for a minute, then put everything in a bag and handed it to me.
“Pay it forward,” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re doing a good thing,” she said.
My eyes teared up. I held out my money.
“She’s not going to take it,” the other worker said.
I was overcome with surprise and gratitude. I thanked her profusely, wiped my eyes and promised to come back and shop for myself—with cash.
My next stop: a nearby gas station for four birthday scratch-lottery tickets. These were not comped.
Amazingly, I wasn’t too late to the casino, but it did take me a while to find Gary. Finally, there he was, off in a secluded smoking section, playing a machine he’d never tried before.
He opened his card, tucked away his good-luck token and said he’d save the lottery tickets for later.
I lured him into the nonsmoking section (or frightened him with my constant nose-blowing), and we played a machine called Fireball. I quickly won enough to quit ($10; I’m such a high-roller), but Gary didn’t, and he was hungry.
I offered to buy him a nice birthday lunch (that’s probably not paying it forward, is it?), then irritated him to no end by asking him whether he wanted anything else. Over and over.
Then he scratched his lottery tickets. At first glance, it appeared that 2 out of 4 cards were winners—one for $20, one for $1. At second glance, we were right. I was kind of amazed. He was inspired.
“I could play another round of Fireball,” he smiled.
There was only one open seat, so Gary took it and I watched. He hit the bonus round, and I said, “I have a feeling about this one.” He was irritated again (imagine!).
“Do not jinx me,” he said.
“Look what just happened,” I said.
He looked. Just that fast, he had won $40.
Gary went for a high-five, but I was already going for a handshake. We slapped hands, shook hands and laughed like he’d won millions.
“I won’t say I told you so,” I said. But I did say Happy Birthday.
Today was Gary’s birthday and a Soldiers Home field trip to the Muckleshoot Casino—no way was I missing that. On my way to Auburn, I stopped at a cute gift shop to get Gary a couple little birthday goodies. I was running a little late (imagine!), so as soon as I walked in, I asked whether they had any good-luck charms. I mentioned I wanted just little tokens to pass around, since I was meeting a group of veterans. They pointed me to some sweet four-leaf-clover medallions, and I’d found a good birthday card, and I was getting a tiny bit impatient waiting to pay. The woman behind the counter stood there for a minute, then put everything in a bag and handed it to me.
“Pay it forward,” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re doing a good thing,” she said.
My eyes teared up. I held out my money.
“She’s not going to take it,” the other worker said.
I was overcome with surprise and gratitude. I thanked her profusely, wiped my eyes and promised to come back and shop for myself—with cash.
My next stop: a nearby gas station for four birthday scratch-lottery tickets. These were not comped.
Amazingly, I wasn’t too late to the casino, but it did take me a while to find Gary. Finally, there he was, off in a secluded smoking section, playing a machine he’d never tried before.
He opened his card, tucked away his good-luck token and said he’d save the lottery tickets for later.
I lured him into the nonsmoking section (or frightened him with my constant nose-blowing), and we played a machine called Fireball. I quickly won enough to quit ($10; I’m such a high-roller), but Gary didn’t, and he was hungry.
I offered to buy him a nice birthday lunch (that’s probably not paying it forward, is it?), then irritated him to no end by asking him whether he wanted anything else. Over and over.
Then he scratched his lottery tickets. At first glance, it appeared that 2 out of 4 cards were winners—one for $20, one for $1. At second glance, we were right. I was kind of amazed. He was inspired.
“I could play another round of Fireball,” he smiled.
There was only one open seat, so Gary took it and I watched. He hit the bonus round, and I said, “I have a feeling about this one.” He was irritated again (imagine!).
“Do not jinx me,” he said.
“Look what just happened,” I said.
He looked. Just that fast, he had won $40.
Gary went for a high-five, but I was already going for a handshake. We slapped hands, shook hands and laughed like he’d won millions.
“I won’t say I told you so,” I said. But I did say Happy Birthday.
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