I get the drinks ready for Table 3. It is a single gentleman in uniform, his white hat resting on the tabletop, his hair cut short. I’m no expert in the military and I’m honestly not sure what division he is — but I have the feeling he is a Marine. He is a private, that much I can tell from the single chevron on his sleeve…
Before I get to the table, Maria cuts in and is taking the order. I’m a little confused for a moment because Maria isn’t the kind of person to go about stealing tables and I was but a step behind her. I set down the drinks and head back to the server line with a shrug. Oh well.
Maria returns and quietly explains things to me. “That lady,” she gestures to an elderly patron by the register, “wants to pay for his meal. She said that after all he’s done for our country it’s the least she could do.”
I look over to the woman. I am so awed by the gesture. I hand Maria the bill and the woman pays for it discreetly. The private has no idea.
“She doesn’t want you to tell him it was her.”
I don’t. When it’s time to drop the ticket I simply tell him that it was paid for as a gesture of thanking him for his service to our county. He smiles and thanks me. I shake my head, “No, sir, thank you.”