RISK (PART 1)

I'M IN A BIG TIME RUSH.

Saturdays I have to be to work by 11AM but I like to stay home so long that I'm almost intentionally late and relying on the fact that I can drive faster than anyone else.

I DASH OUT THE FRONT DOOR CHECKING MY WATCH.

I jump in the car.
Stick keys in ignition.
Pull seat belt over my lap.
Look over my shoulder.
Hit the gas, pull away from the curb, and at the last possible moment, noticed the gas was on E.

(WIFE!!!)

I had about thirty seconds to hit a gas station and fill up.

While filling up I'm totally multi-tasking:  calculating in my head how much cash I'll have left over for a coffee or a muffin vs how much time I have left to get to work.

I walk thru the doors and the line was eight-people-deep. I'm stuck waiting. Adding and subtracting the miles vs the minutes. It never ends up being accurate.

Seven people left. Six people. Five.

And the line stops. For this man trying to buy three donuts, a bag of chips probably for later, and a Monster, not an actual monster but a monster energy drink with cash, and it's taking forever.

I start watching because the longer it takes the more I want to see, and the more I watch the more it looks like he has cash and his card on the counter.

This man in line, he already has a mouthful of doughnut and the rest of his stuff is laid out on the counter for the clerk. While they talk he starts feeling around for pockets. Back pockets, then the front pockets of his shorts as if he misplaced his keys or something and I'm thinking he's looking for more money. The clerk swipes his card, "...no, Sir, it's not going through."

Poor guy.

I've been in his shoes. It's really embarrassing.

I have cash and I'm even gonna have some left over. I have money in my account. Not a lot,but enough to buy this man his doughnuts, chips, and energy drink.  

He looks around, like he's stalling until someone in line will bail him out.

None of us do.

My eyes follow him as he walks out. I notice his dirty t-shirt, droopy basketball shorts, and he's wearing nothing on his feet. Barefoot and dirty at 10:15 in the morning. “Too bad I’m stuck in this line,” I thought to myself. “If only I had been behind him, I’d give him a few dollars, but…”

I keep watching him and in a blink I'm next in line. Almost out of here so I can let this situation be forgotten.
I pay.
I get four dollars and change back.
I walk out the door and he's all the way across the parking lot. Against my own comfort, I glance his direction - a random car has pulled up next to him. The traffic drowns out any chance of hearing what the driver is saying, but their hand extends out the window squeezing the middle of a stack of dollar bills. Maybe they're five-dollar bills, maybe they're ten-dollar bills, who knows, but he takes them and nods in thanks.

I hate myself.

SO disappointed in myself.

I’m a decent guy, but do you know what it takes to be a better person? I don’t know either but here's my guess: insight, foresight, discipline, sacrifice, willingness, guts, and the most problematic for me would be the willingness to risk… anything. ANYTHING. My pride, my vulnerability, my emotions, my wallet.

Chance encounter? No way. 

I felt Your nudge to help but I chose to do nothing? I didn't help this man because I was afraid to make the first move. Afraid of being a fool in front of other strangers instead of being the man You want me to be in front of You.

You asked me to take a risk. I know because this isn't the first time I've been in this spot --

I can feel it, and I'm legitimately scared because I don't know how to get them to see you through me.