Saturday, November 10, 2012

Baby steps.

I spread some love in Pennsylvania, yesterday. I slipped a note under my bill at a restaurant. When I walked outside, I expected the waitress (or server? what am I supposed to call her?) to come running out behind me saying something like, "I think this is yours." or "What is this?" or "Why did you leave this for me." But she didn't. Hope she liked it, she looked like she was distracted and not having a great day.

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