Money can buy happiness
Last week I had some surgery at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. Upon release, my wife and I had to go back to the local hotel where my wife lived in anticipation of my release.As I maneuvered the streets of Baltimore before I entered the hospital I was overwhelmed by the incredible number of potholes that were in the streets . I'm willing to bet, that you can not find 10 feet of the street that is free from a pothole. I'm not talking about a bump in the road type - I'm talking about cutting leg holes that have the ability to cause the head to bounce off the roof of your car if not for a seat belt. I doubt there is a car in Baltimore without a front-end alignment problem caused by these monsters of destruction. No need for speed restrictions in Baltimore, the traveling over 25 mph is about to get his vehicle to the side of repair.Anyway, after my surgery, we had to travel the approximately six miles back to the hotel in a taxi. If only you had some stitches put in my stomach, my first priority is to avoid cans that would multiply the pain I already feel. When entering the cab, I told the taxi driver our destination, and loudly proclaimed, "no bumps." The taxi driver was an elderly black man who looks like Uncle Remus, which I loved to watch television as a child when he told one of Aesop's fables. He took off his cap, scratched his soft white hair and repeated in a puzzled way, "no bump"? "OK, I'll try." He knew he had an impossible task, but I noticed that he had an expression of empathy when I first left my wheelchair and slowly, carefully and painfully into his car. Somehow I knew that he would do his best. We left the hospital grounds, and he tried as best he could to avoid the holes of the damage that would jar my innards and cause the low moan of pain that I could not stop the oozing from the soul. He slowly and cautiously moved lanes, went over a few side streets and actually did their best. If he did hit an unavoidable pothole, I could see his face in the rearview mirror that seemed to share my injury II grimaced. He avoided successfully dozens of pits, but could not avoid them all. On one occasion he came into a side street, followed by a 18 wheeler who apparently was in a hurry. The "big rig" was barely three feet from the rear bumper of the taxi when the first of several explosions from the truck loudly proclaimed - "sticking my way". The problem was that there was no where to go to let the truck pass. Undisturbed taxi driver continued at a slow pace with the horns of the 18 wheeler continues to blow his uncomprehending message. Finally, did a little side road the taxi driver to pull aside and let the truck continue its path. Funny thing - in less than three blocks truck pulled into a courtyard where it became a burden can be ready for pick-up.Anyway, we finally arrived to the hotel and the taxi driver left to open the door for my wife on one side and me on the other . He did not say a word to my wife, but I noticed an apologetic expression of sincere empathy on his face as he helped me finish. "I'm sorry, but I did my best," he said to me. I could see the price of the meter was $ 15 dollars, but I knew that he had wasted a lot of time and I told my wife to give him $ 35. My wife asked him the necessary question, "How much," and he replied, "$ 15", then my wife gave him $ 35. An expression of surprise, materialized at his "Remus 'face' and he surprisingly replied," too much. "My wife said," oh no, we thank you for your wonderful efforts. "He almost reluctantly agreed to pay, said thanks and went into his taxi to continue their day's work. As we walked slowly into the hotel, told my wife she thought she saw a tear in his face.My wife commented on how reluctant he seemed to take the point and we both knew that both this unknown taxi driver and we would remember this day. We would remember his genuine empathy for the two strangers among the millions on the Baltimore streets. He would probably remember the tip for his efforts to minimize my pain. We were happy to give it and was extremely happy to have given him some extra money that can bring some joy in his life. For us it was $ 20 less than an amount that would cause us much thought. For him, it was obviously a sum that he was above the reception. My wife and I hugged each other tightly as we walked through the hotel lobby. We both knew that we had bought some happiness for a very small amount.
http://mycokerewards.com