An old Chrysler minivan pulled up at the service bay today after the driver looked around for a regular parking spot that didn’t involve a lot of extra steps in the sun.
Parking error 404: Not Found. Go to Service.
So I stopped in front of George’s door, y’know, over where you’re supposed to wait for someone to come ask what you need done with your Toyota. Um. Make it quick, I figured.
The warmth radiating from his face when he saw me coming into his little office again, before he had any idea why I was there (getting out of–you know–a…Chrysler…!) The surprise when I handed him a printout from my blog post about him and told him I hoped his boss would see it. The oh my! extra delight when I said, “It’s not as good as the old country’s, but,” and pulled out the baklava and a stack of paper napkins in case he wanted to share.
I don’t think I was in there more than 30 seconds before I dashed back to my car and out of their way and away.
Some half minutes can make up for a whole awful lot in life. I have to say, I was given a lot more in those moments than I at all gave; thank you, George!