Sometimes I think there really is a fate. That specific things happen to you at certain times because of some big ‘plan’. Tuesday night had one of those moments happen.

You see I had a favorite teacher in high-school, probably my most favorite since my 6th grade teacher. Anyway she was just awesome, didn’t take anyone’s bullshit and was just one of those teachers that ruled. Sure her tests were hard, and she was kinda a bitch, but she treated everyone equally and 9 times out of 10 was also funny as hell.

After I graduated I kept in touch with her, mostly by sending a christmas card every year. Last year’s was a bit longer than most because I had to tell her about my move to Denver, etc, but nonetheless I got a reply wishing me well along with the other usual updates.

Well on Tuesday night a coworker asked me to drop a check on his table, which isn’t that odd I mean it happens a lot. But usually it’s by people who are right around your area. His however wasn’t anywhere near mine, but I did it because I was bored and didn’t mind. I get to said table drop the check and do my usual “Thanks everyone for coming out, hope to see you again soon,” when I looked up at the faces one of them kind of clicked in my head. However I started to turn around and walk away before I realized who it was, cue the doubletake. It was Mrs.O.

After I turned back I was wondering if she’d actually recogonize me since at that point I had contacts and at the moment I’m in glasses. “Mrs.O?” I asked her, just because well I might not be 100% right, but I turns out I was.

As soon as I said who I was she simply went “Aren’t you supposed to be in Denver?”

“Yes, I was, but well..I’m back.” And then I had to explain to her my whole messy situation and what happened. She sort of laughed at parts of it, but the rest of it was classic Mrs.O. To which I’m ever grateful, she really was one of those teachers that ‘touched’ me growing up.

So while I made almost nothing Tuesday night, it was worth it if not simply for the fact that I got to see an old friend.

And while I’m on the subject of talking/telling stories to guests. I find it amusing sometimes when older couples come into the restaurant and like to hear tales of their servers lives. I say this because I had an older-couple basically ask me my life story in a nutshell, to which I got a “You sound like our son Jason, he’s a nice kid who’s been screwed over too.”

Sometimes it’s nice to know you’re not the only one who gets taken advantage of.

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