I sat stiffly at the edge of my seat with the scruffy-looking man who had limped toward me on 42nd and Seventh while I was walking toward the train. I had just paid for his pork fried rice and I was mentally slapping myself in the face for sitting with a complete stranger in this deserted Chinese restaurant in the city.
“Do you happen to have a couple of dollars on you?” he had grumbled out earlier, rubbing the bristles on the side of his face with his soiled hands. I could just see him taking my money greedily and going around the corner to buy some illegal substance from God knows whom to get off in some alleyway.
“I won’t give you my money. But if you’re hungry, I’ll buy you something to eat,” I had told him. I only had $30 on me but it was food; it wouldn’t hurt.
He uncovered the lid of his plate and set up his utensils on the proper sides of the plates.
“You know, I used to be able to come in here and buy food for people like you’re doing. But that was back when I would come home from deployment.” He sat back and stared down at the food in front of him while I began to eat mine.
Deployment …
I began to sink back in my chair as I let out a breath of relief.
“Are you … going to eat?” I smiled hopefully.
“Oh yes, of course. I just like to relish the sight before I eat. It’s such a blessing to just have a plate of food waiting for you to enjoy it,” He beamed at me before diving in.
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