The man from years ago

At Burger Fuel for a quick dinner with Greg and Louise.

Louise saw this man; he used to come into the the cafe we worked in about 10 years ago every weekend.
Latte, Kommik Eggs and a piece of carrot cake with cream.

We had a rapport with most of our regulars; we knew their names, their kids' names, what they did for a living. But with this guy, he was like a phantom, a ghost. He would barely look at you when he ordered.

I used to get a bit annoyed with him. Same order every week, same table, always alone, no change in the routine. I used to think that he didn't need the cake with the breakfast, that he should look after himself better.

But then one day, as I have him his change, he looked and me and gave this little sad smile as he picked up his cake and took it to his seat, and at that moment I felt utter revulsion at myself for my judgements.

So what if he does the same thing every week? So what if he has cake and cream with his eggs and bacon? Maybe he's a bit sad and alone and this is his little treat every week. Maybe he really looks forward to it. How dare I cast judgements over him for what pleasures he gets out of life.

After that I was always extra nice to him, and would give him an extra big dollop of cream with his cake.

Anyway, for some reason, this guy and that moment where I took a long hard look at myself has always stuck with me. I'm not sure how I felt seeing him tonight. On one hand, he was having a milkshake, burger and fries alone on a Tuesday night. On the other hand, he might be perfectly happy.

I still desaturated him a little though, just for being a phantom.