July 13, 2005
The Assumption deserving of a Double Cheeseburger
On average, i eat about 14 times a week. Or at least 14 meals with the aid of utensils. Of those, i average experience about 10 by myself. Eating alone is economical. you eat cheap. at home, and seldom do even have to dirty dishes. i eat out of the pot, drink from the carton, and scoop from the container.
But last night i decided to go out for dinner.
After the crushing the realization that the local salad bar buffet was closed (forever), i went to the Habit. The habit is billed as a California classic. A high end hamburger stand. A glassed-in hybrid of an A&W root beer stand and a boneified fast food joint. The doors are open and you walk up to the counter with about 5 hamburgers to choose from. The whole thing is vaguely reminiscent of the Dairy Queens in the parts of the woods where i grew up.
He must have been watching.
I ordered my sandwich. As i reached for my wallet, he pounced like a puma from behind the drink station.
"Hey Man!" he said in an overly jovial tone. (Think Steve Zahn.)I just watched the movie, Sahara)).
"You got any change i have?"
"Dang." I thought. It's one thing to to be asked on the street. but this guy was in the restaurant and struck for gold at the precise point of purchase.
I was paying with a Debit Card, and had no currency on me. But out of respect for his tenacity and deft timing, i reached in to my pocket. All I found was one 1 dime. And, i figured, at least i know waht he will be using the money for. I looked at him, cupping a hand full of pennies and nickels, counting his money to make his purchase.
"Here you go". i said and tossed the dime in to his pile.
"Right on!, man." he said from behind his oversized 80's style sunglasses that resembled the tinted windshield of 35 ft. RV. he even had bugs stuck on them.
"Surf's up, huh man? Catching waves!?" He continued.
I haven't cut my hair in a long time.
"Semper Fi dude. I just got back from Iraq, and man this state was worth saving! i love this state." he says as he voice began to raise and entered earshot of the growing line of Californians behind us.
"Where are you headed?" i asked.
"Man I'm gonna see this whole state. I put one foot in mexico and i am headed up the coast."
I examined him. he was weathered, with a full size, extended trip backpack, with a tent and a bag. he was wearing 501's and leather sandals. and was covered in a chapped and dusty film of exhaust, sand, and smog.
He continued his story, as he counted his change, and ordered a double cheeseburger. The crew-cut hispanic manager walked up behind the register and called him over. In a rather drawn out and hushed conversation, the manager kicked him out of the Habit Hamburger restaurant.
The guy handled it pretty well. -that is to say, he handled better than i would have. in an exasperated voice , he vented to himself as he walked out past the now long line of Californians, "I'm a fucking marine, i just got back here! man, i can't believe this..... I just got back here!....."
There was assumption to be made right then. And, standing by the drink station, I made it. I assumed he was a United states soldier hiking the 31st state of our union in his 501's and leather sandals. I guard my gullibility closer than anyone, and seldom would believe in a story like that, but was amazed at the irony of the scene.
I stood there by the drink stand watching it all. Not a single person in the line even looked at him. Not a single person took their eyes off the menu on the wall, or their cell phone. Not the business man with his black leather cell phone holster. Not the short woman in pink flowered flip flops and an american flag t-shirt. Not the tan kid with abercrombie 4 inch lettering on his shirt and replica army camouflaged shorts. Not a single person looked his way. He walked out the front of the Habit Hamburger restaurant and stood on the street corner pacing in a flustered frustration.
As i mentioned, i guard my gullibility closer than anyone, and seldom would believe in a story like that, but I felt bad for the guy. I picked up my food and ate alone in the back of the restaurant, keeping an eye on him, standing on the street corner. I ate quickly and had decided that, if he was still there, when i was done, i would buy him his double cheeseburger on my way out. Had the line been shorter, i would have gotten right back in, bought him his double cheeseburger, and ate it outside on the picnic tables with him. Even if he was lying, I thought to myself, it still wouldn't be such a bad thing to get the guy a sandwich.
I began thinking, a panhandler savvy enough to infiltrate the staff at the Habit Hamburger restaurant and take up a reconnaissance position flanked behind the drink stand and who ambushed me at the precise moment my wallet was exposed, just might have had to be a marine. Or, with those skills, would have also been keen enough to use a patriotic marketing ploy for profit. Everyone else does. But if it was true, then what had just happened throbbed with apathy, irony, and a telling state of affiars, distinctly Vietnam flashback-ish. Even if he was lying, I decided, I would rather eat with him than then anyone else in there.
When i was finished, i got up and emptied my tray, and got in the back of the long line of californians, then peered out the window to find guy. he was gone.
and without his double cheeseburger, he was - I assumed, headed north.