i was the host at an airport restaurant
i sat her at the communal high-topped table
she must have watched me while she ate

there was one large man who didn’t want to wait to be seated
and there was a sneaky pete who wanted to eat his wendy’s at our table
and there were others in twos and threes and ones
all rushed all with a plane to catch soon

on her way out she transfixed me with her wise tired eyes
“you have the patience of job,” she said
“i want you to have this,” she said
“it isn’t much,” she said with regret
and she pressed three dollar bills into my hand

i told her truly that her words meant so much
while touching my heart through my sternum through my shirt
with three fingers as i said it

she brightsmiled and left

after i clocked out at 9:25
and walked and skytrained and escalatored to the lightrail station
and got on the lightrail at 9:58 or so
and off at montebello and 19th ave at 10:44
i walked north to northern and west to 31st
where there was a circle k

i bought two burritos for $2.22
and a 99-cent circle k water
and plain m&ms
(“dinner! drink! dessert!” coquelin as cyrano once declaimed)

took them to my apt
microwaved one of the burritos and ate it
washing it down with the circle k water
and then i ate one of the m&ms
a blue one

but i was not blue
an elegant, gracious lady had just bought me dinner