The True Test of a Person’s Character is What She Does When No One is Watching But She Thinks They Are
I can be a considerate person when pressed, but most of the time, I just do nice things because I’m afraid I’m on a reality show.
I’m sitting here at Starbucks trying to figure out a fabulous topic for today’s post. I had one, but it involved Dimples. She always gets final say-so on any stories featuring her, and she put the big kibosh on this one.
So, instead, I’m staring forlornly at my iPad screen, and a man gets up from one of the tables, inadvertently hitting some kind of brochure holder full of pamphlets, sending them flying all over the floor.
“Oh, darn,” he says. And, no, I did not censor that. I. KNOW! I didn’t know people still say that, either.
Then he walks to the employee door in the back of the store and disappears.
I look at the mess on the floor. I look at the employees working behind the bar. I look back at the mess on the floor. Not one person seems inclined to pick it up.
I just know I’m being featured on some hidden camera show. They’re trying to bust people who ignore pamphlets strewn all over the floor – to reveal the callous behavior of people who drink skinny, decaf mochas as they try to pass the time while their daughters who have editorial control over their blogs practice synchronized swimming.
This is my chance to show my heroic side. I casually get up and walk over to the mess. I collect all of the brochures, straighten them out, and put them back into the holder, placing it carefully in its spot behind the basket of creamer or sugar or whatever it is that I don’t use.
I walk back to my seat. No one claps. No one jumps out of the back room saying, “You’re the first person today to actually pick that up! You wouldn’t believe how many times we’ve done this skit and people completely ignored the mess! It just proves what a sad world we live in that no one cares about brochures scattered all over the floor.”
I know what you’re thinking. “This lady is a saint. Some day, they are going to write on her tombstone, ‘Here lies Mrs. Cap’n Firepants, the Mother Teresa of the 21st century. She saved spiders and snakes and credit card advertisements. And just because she did it out of fear of being featured on What Would You Do? with John Quinones doesn’t make her any less of role model. May the Force be With You.'”
or, I guess it could say,
“Here lies a woman who kept picking up random things and we couldn’t raise enough money on Kickstarter to buy more than this brick to mark her grave. Please take a Mastercard application before you leave.”
Who cares? At least I won’t have to worry about hidden cameras when I’m dead.