Strangers’ Small Acts That Changed Lives Forever: Stories That Will Restore Your Faith in Humanity
I know this is kinda cliché, but I’ve never had somebody go out of their way to be nice to me for no reason at all. It wasn’t like I was going to give her quicker service, since she was the only person in the restaurant. What she said meant the world to me at the time. I carry that receipt with me wherever I go.
So it’s the middle of the night and I’m headed to my friends house to hang out. After a debate about the faster route, spookiness, and legality, we decide to split up and he and my little brother take the streets while I follow the alley and railway tracks.
Que edgelord highschool me, dark clothes, leather boots, long hair, ill fitting second hand wool trench coat, strutting around a blind corner in the dark and almost face first into this short Hispanic man who jumps like a cartoon character and exclaims, half drunk, that he thought I was death finally hear to take him.
It’s chilly out, cold enough to comfortably wear wool, he’s in cut off jeans, a tee that’s older than my dad and flip flops, he’s got one arm, and it’s holding a bottle in a brown paper bag. He introduces himself as Freddy.
Turns out, he lives on my buddies street on the other side of the tracks so we set off into the dark railway path, a drunken one armed man and a Columbine cosplayer. As we walk we talk about everything and nothing, cults, ex wives, movies we didn’t like, youth delinquency, and five blocks later we parted ways, I offered a hand to shake without thinking and he awkwardly held the bottle with his teeth and took it. He offered that if I ever needed some booze all I had to do was knock four times then he sauntered off to the east without giving me an address or distance and I carried on to the west, baffled by the encounter.
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