I was driving down the street this afternoon, heading to Quizno’s for another of their fantastic salads, when I passed a trio of boys trying to attract the attention of passing motorists. They were all about 12 years old, and one held up a sign that said “Dr. Pepper $1.00”. They waved and yelled as I drove past, trying to get me to stop. I don’t particularly care for Dr. Pepper, and I already had a 44 ounce Pepsi sitting next to me, so I drove on. I thought about holding up my big cup as I drove by, but the moment passed before I could manage it safely.
That’s when the angel appeared.
Well, he didn’t actually appear, but if he had, I’m sure that’s how he’d look. A gay man’s guardian angel couldn’t look any different, could it?
So he’s whispering in my ear that I should stop on the way back and buy a can of Dr. Pepper. It’s a good way to support kids going about making some money the good old fashion way, by working for it. Well, maybe not working in the traditional sense, but they’re out there trying to make a buck and they’re not out getting into trouble doing it!
Never one to disobey an angel like that, I decided to stop on the way back and buy a can. On my return up the street, the boys had moved to the opposite side from where I first saw them. I pulled up to the curb where they were standing with their ice chest. When I first pulled over, the boys gave me a really odd look, like they were worried I was going to tell them to stop what they were doing. Maybe I gave the appearance of being a real stick-in-the-mud or something, but they just kind of stood there at the curb, with a worried look on their faces. When I waved a dollar bill at them, they immediately brightened and grabbed a soda and brought it to me. As I drove off, I could see they were tickled pink to make a sale, and I was quite pleased with myself for the results of my little purchase.
As I drove off, I was thinking about the moments leading up to them being out on the street, and how great it was they decided to set up their little corner business. I was very proud of them.
Then it happened.
Maybe I’ve been working with cops too long. As I drove away, a low, evil sounding voice in my head said “I bet they stole those Dr. Peppers!”.
I’ve decided I’m going to ignore that voice, and go with my first assumptions, and the suggestions of the other angel.
Now, what am I going to do with a can of Dr. Pepper that I won’t drink??