The Cynical Psychic

Why do I remember this guy who works at McDonald's? Why'd he make the list of things I'd remember?

I certainly didn't think of him as I placed my order this morning. But when I rolled up to the window, there he was. Here's why he stuck out to me in my pre-injury world, despite my silly busyness and hardly taking notice of anything. This guy was, like, on fire. He had pizzazz. He took orders with the kind of zeal and enthusiasm that made even my preoccupied mind take notice. And he seemed to be sincerely friendly. Like, a genuinely happy person. And me, being the eternal cynic even then, enjoyed him, but always thought, "Oh, he's not long for this world." 

He was new on the job, what could have been a few months ago. I caught him on one of his first days where he was still learning his job. For some reason, I took note of this in the back of my mind. He wasn't a kid. He was my age. A kid has the right for this kind of enthusiasm for life. What was his story? He reminded me of me, new to any kind of job, whatever position, thinking I was going to set the world on fire, no matter my age. I always had that energy with a new job before reality would kick me in the face. 

I didn't eat at McDonald's every day, but often enough, always subconsciously keeping track of this guy. 

Again, I rolled into McDonald's this morning. A woman over the speaker took my order, not this cheery, happy go-lucky-guy. But there he was at the first window. And dammit, didn't it look like life had kicked him in the face. I'd predicted it, but I never wanted it, especially now. 

"Hey. You're not as chipper as you usually are," I said. "You okay, man?"

He seemed surprised.

"Yeah," he responded. "Thank you." 

That was a lot of TBI emotion that coursed through me. I'd remembered this guy. I didn't exactly have the words to express I'd noticed he seemed down, much less try to explain what a freaking miracle it was that I'd remembered him at all. And that I wanted to say something to cheer him up. Recognition, sympathy, sadness. That little exchange will give me a headache probably all day.

He might have just been having an off day. Just because life likes to kick me in the face doesn't mean he's down and out, too. Let's hope I'm no longer the cynical psychic. 

And to try to take my mind off of all this, I tell myself, "Relax, kiddo. You don't own all the problems of the world. Eat your breakfast."