Are you a Christian? I had finished my burger and now approached the counter at the food court for a refill of my Coke. They were slow at this concession, but the food was fresh and good, so worth the wait. Suddenly, there was someone standing next to me, and the low voice surprised me. “Are you a Christian, sir?” I turned to look and saw her: dark brown skin, long hair extensions, blue at the ends, UNC sweatshirt, gray with Carolina Blue logo, and a windbreaker over that. I sighed, bracing for the religious proselytizing and managed, “I’m just trying to get a refill.”
At that moment, the proprietor of Flamers, the burger place says, “Yes sir, how may I help you?” “Refill please,” I just wanted to get something to eat. “Thank you.” “Thank you, sir.” Wait, what was that? I heard her, but understood after. I looked back at her black and blue hair, and she was now asking an Asian man if he was a Christian, not looking anymore at me. I took my cue and walked away. Jewelry stores where diamonds are at least 40% off, knickknacks you would only ever stop to look at this week in all the weeks of the year. The retail festival is on, our great collective peroxisome of capitalism where we make ourselves feel generous and special and blessed and included by dropping large quantities of cash in short amounts of time.
She just wanted something to eat. She is hungry and just asking if I’m a Christian, and if so, would I help her? Oh, that was her tactic, not to talk about religion, but talk about food. I took a $20 bill out of my wallet and walked back toward the food court. I found her at the same counter pouring water from a paper Pepsi cup to a plastic water bottle. I got the whole situation at once. They wouldn’t give her a drink, but they’d give her a cup of water, which she was trying to convert into something to go.
When I gave her the $20, she looked shocked then went to hug me. I said, “You should thank my wife.” She said, “Where is she?” “Oh, she has gone off already. Well, Merry Christmas.” “To you, too,” because that’s what Melinda would do. And as I walked away she leaned forward at the Flamers counter and said in a loud voice, “Now, I want to order something.” I smiled as I walked away, not certain about who I helped or whether I had really helped her, but clear that I had helped me, and I hoped that she got the answer to her question.