I’m going to tell you a story I’ve never told ANYONE.
Not my friends. Not my family. Not even my avid readers of my “Elephant Travels” stories.
It’s about the time I got $100, the easy way.
But it was something recent that helped me recall that story. I went up to Fort Collins over the weekend to check out Downtown. I walked in a coffee shop and introduced myself: I explained that I moved to Denver from LA and this was my first time ever to this coffee shop and to Fort Collins.
“Really?” asked the barista. “Well, welcome!”
We talked for a while and it turned out two of the baristas recently relocated from Illinois and, of course, loved the Blackhawks. We talked hockey as the barista carefully prepared my cappuccino. When he finished, he gently placed it on the table and slid it toward me.
“On the house,” he said.
“What?” I said. “Oh c’mon—”
“—on the house,” he answered with a smile. “Welcome to Fort Collins.”
You know, of all the lessons I’ve learned while traveling and striking up random conversations with thousands of people, the most powerful one was how friendly and generous people can be to total strangers.
Yeah sure, there are assholes, but they’re the minority. In fact, we psychologically skew this douchebag landscape because we get such strong emotions when meeting a dick; it sometimes seems that there are “so many mean people” out there when, really, we only feel this way because it’s easier to recall a blood-boiling incident instead remembering a neutral event like a head-nod from a stranger.
I’ve wrote about the kindness of strangers before. But here’s the story that really goes over the top:
On a humid, Fall weekend in Seoul, a few friends and I decided to go on a “Casino Night:” dress up like ballers, tour around town the city during the day, drink, and head to the 7Luck Casino at night by the COEX Mall to gamble and drink some more. (At one point during the day, my friend and I got harassed in front of the American embassy.) Well that night, Lady Luck was out sick with the runs and within a few minutes, I lost my entire gambling budget on the blackjack table.
Come to think of it, the dealer probably killed it that night.
I cut my losses, walked to the restaurant for a meal (and another drink), and joined another friend afterward at his blackjack table, sitting between him and an older Korean woman who emigrated to the US. Soon, I started a conversation and all of us started talking. Even after my friend left the table to cut his losses, this other woman and I kept chatting.
I don’t remember the conversation, but I do remember she loved fun. Why worry? Why stress? Okay, you lose a few bucks at the table. That’s what you’re there for. But you get to sit around, talk, drink, and have a little fun while you’re debating whether or not to hit or stay. I felt the exact same way and shared it. “I like your attitude,” she said. (Ha, that’s normally my line.)
We chatted for another 30 minutes. By then, it was past 4am and she decided to head back to her hotel.
“Here,” she said as she stood up. She handed me a $100 chip.
“What?” I asked.
“Take it.”
“Oh, I can’t take this—”
“—no, take it. You have a good attitude. Don’t worry. Just take it.”
Then, she got up and left.
I sat there astonished while carefully clutching the chip in my hands. Did this really just happen? After I realized that a random woman really did just give me a 100 bucks, I did the most responsible thing:
I cashed out.
A while later, I met up with the rest of the crew on their way out, but I didn’t really say much the rest of the night. I mean, shit, it’s not often someone gives you $100 just for being you.
And I don’t think there’s no much to say either.
The truth is, I didn’t do anything special. I just talked the way I normally do. When I talk to someone because I’m interested, suddenly, all sorts of wonderful things happen: strangers become lifelong friends, people invite you to say that their home, people fall in love, people shout you drinks, people help you unfuck yourself, and people (apparently) give you free money.
It never hurts to be nice.
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