Minimum wage

“In ten years where do you see yourself?”

The younger boy thought about it for a moment, setting down his friend’s order in front of him. “Probably not making minimum wage?”

“Think grander than that!” He emphasized his point by stretching his arms out.

He did, because his friend asked. “Rich.”

“Yes, that is indeed grander! But from doing what?”

At that, he didn’t hesitate to answer at all. “Run a noodle cart.”

The two boys stared at each other. The older boy’s eyes widened. “Good god. That’s genius.”

Before his boss could yell at him for messing around, he quickly returned to work.

The feeling of Giving

I find myself thinking about all of the things I would do if I was rich.

Oddly enough, the first thing that comes to mind is tipping. The ability to go and eat at a restaurant and tip twice as much as what I paid for the food. I once found myself with extra tickets to go to the zoo and handed it out to the first couple I saw heading for the ticket booth. It was Christmas. I figure the tipping thing would give me that feeling times however many times I could do it. Which, if I was rich, would be however many times I wanted to do it.

Once I was in line at a fast food restaurant. The man in front of me had done something or another to get free food with his order, but he passed it on to me. What would it be like if I could just pay for the person behind me in line without having to then worry about how I would pay my bills?

Maybe this is wishful thinking, but I like to think that I am not the only one who feels this way. That without the stresses of the rest of life, a lot of people would simply like the feeling of helping someone out if they could. Maybe I can’t afford to do this all the time, as I would like.

But despite not being rich… I guess I can still do this occasionally.

Disbelief would be my first feeling too

When he found a stack of bills at the bus stop, he didn’t know what to make of it. He could barely feel his fingers, it was so cold. He almost left it there when the bus drove up, because it had to be fake. Then again, what was the matter with picking up the fake bills?

Then again, that’s probably what made him miss his bus as he went to the nearby police station instead.

“I’d like to report finding a missing… item?” He didn’t know exactly what to say about that.

The woman on the other side looked tired, as if she were at the end of a longer than normal shift. “All right. What-”

He placed the bills on the counter, starting to feel his fingers again. “I found these at the bus stop on North a few minutes ago. I was the only one waiting, didn’t see anyone else.”

There was a moment when she looked a bit surprised, followed by a genuine smile. She pulled a bag out to put the money in, writing on the outside of it. “Thank you.”

With a nod, he returned the smile as he rubbed his hands. “Do you think I can wait inside here until the next bus comes?”