Was It A Good Deed?
A tale of a good deed in a café which wasn’t quite what it seemed.
This week, I bring you Café Encounter number 567 – or what feels like it anyway. In this tale, I am the recipient of a good deed – or am I?
I went to pay for a cappuccino in a local café, all delighted with myself because I had the exact money – or so I thought. I handed my careful stash of coins to the girl. Only to see her looking at the coins, counting them again, just to make sure.
‘You’re fifty cent short,’ she said, a squirm in her voice.
My wonky eyes had worked their magic, convincing me that a fifty-cent coin was in fact a one-euro coin. But it was indeed a fifty-cent coin, meaning I now had fifty-cent less than the required amount.
Photo Description: This is a pic of a variety of euro coins, including fifty-cent coins, to mirror the mess of coins I held in my hand.
‘I’ll use my card,’ I said.
But disappointment must have marked my face, because the girl continued to hold my coins in her hand, weighing up whether to leave me off.
Then a voice came from behind me.
’Fifty cent short, is it?’
I turned around to see a woman with a blonde pony tail fishing in her bag for coins.
‘Let me get it for you. It’ll be my good deed for the day.’
‘Thanks very much,’ I said. ‘I’ll be happy to contribute to cleaning your soul.’
She slid the coin forward. And then she said it again.
‘That’s my good deed for the day.’
Why was she saying it again? It was as if I were a tick on her spiritual list.
Was it a good deed? It certainly was. Saved two of us embarrassment and helped me offload my coins. But her coin came with conditions.
For her to reach ninja levels of goodness, she could have simply slid the coin across the counter and said, ‘Here’s your fifty cent.’ Real virtue does not need to be signalled.