At the dépanneur just now, while I was buying my beer, there was a young man in camouflage gear, just buying a couple of soft drinks.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, but thanks anyway,” is what came out of my mouth. He just nodded respectfully. Just what I expected.
Reminds me of about a year ago when I was having a Bloody Mary in an airport lounge in Newark, New Jersey. A whole bunch of kids came in, and though they weren’t in uniform, their conversation pointed straight in that direction.
So I just went up to the bartender and gave her my credit card number and said “Just get whatever is the next one for these guys.”
It’s not misbegotten charity. They’re not lost souls on the wrong path. They’re our brothers and sons, and daughters too, who are trying to make the world a bit better for you and me. So next time you see someone in uniform, do me a favour and buy them a drink. Tell ‘em it’s from me. And then tell me you did.
I’ll pay you back.