hands on trophyMonday night I volunteered at the dog rescue shelter.  I always work Monday nights, but this Monday night was especially good because it was Halloween, so I had an excuse not to pass out candy in our neighborhood.

This was certainly great for my neighborhood reputation, as last year I “may” have turned off our light early because we were getting low on Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and I didn’t want to share with the kid down the street who threw a sheet on himself and said he was a ghost.

Come on kid! Get some imagination (and sheets with a thread count of greater than 50.  I can see your underwear).

empty food bowlAfter my shelter shift I was hungry and didn’t have the energy to make something at home, nor did I have ingredients.  As a dinner of vodka and saltines just wouldn’t be acceptable two nights in a row,  so I headed to my ole standby.

My mecca.  My home away from home.  Chipotle.

I arrived at the location closest to my house, as I despise driving long distances with delicious goodness sitting next to me.  That, and it feels strange seat belting my burrito bowl into the front seat.

I walked up to the building, my feet dragging, and the smell of dog poo surrounding me like Pig Pen and his cloud of funk, only I’m not prematurely balding).

I walked up to the counter and ordered my “salad.”  I like to call it a salad because it has lettuce, although nothing else about it even remotely resembles a salad.

I asked for grilled onions and peppers so I could say I ate my veggies for the day.  She piled them on and I was shocked at how much she gave me.

Clearly this chick knew I needed more than one helping of veggies for the day.  Fine with me!

onionsNext she she added chicken, as it’s delicious, and I feel like it’s the healthiest option.  I realize the healthiest option would have been to actually get a salad…from a place other than Chipotle…but whatever.  I was working with what I had.

She piled on the chicken as well.  This lady was my friend for sure.  I took note of her name and reminded myself that I needed to ask Rose to make dinner on subsequent visits. Let’s face it, would probably be the next day.

We then moved on to salsa and Rose didn’t disappoint.  I was beginning to wonder if the cardboard container could withstand the weight of my “salad.”

Then I got to thinking…why was Rose being so charitable with the extra food?  Was she disenchanted with Chipotle?

I immediately dismissed this idea as it is positively ridiculous.

Did she look at me and know I’m a girl who loves to eat, so she was just giving me what I needed?

salsa and chipsWait a minute…I mentally took inventory of my appearance and realized that Rose thought I was homeless.  The disheveled hair, dirty clothes, and faint smell of urine and feces suggested it.

I was just grateful she didn’t see my emergency flask of liquor stashed in my trunk.  Talk about a stereotype….

Although I have nothing against the homeless, for some reason I didn’t want Rose to think I spent my nights sleeping in a cardboard box.

I told her I just got off work, was exhausted, and apologized for putrid smell.

I then took this as a cue to fart, as I had already accounted for the stench.  A little gas wouldn’t hurt anything.  She seemed completely unmoved by my explanation and continued to pile on the salsa.

She did the same thing with the cheese, most likely making the biggest “salad” Chipotle ever created.  But the final test wasn’t complete.

If she skimped on the guacamole I would know she was judging me and that she knew I passed gas.  I was sure of it.

crossed fingersAs she went for the spoon of guacamole, I held my breath in anticipation (and also because I really stunk).


Rose didn’t disappoint!  She was definitely getting a gift card for Christmas.  I was ecstatic!

She handed my feast to the cashier and told her I had a chicken bowl.  She neglected to say I also had guacamole, which carries an extra charge.

Now I’m a lot of things, a disaster, and a cheater at board games, but a thief I am not.  I told the cashier I had guacamole, and I should be charged for it.

It was then that she said some of the happiest words to ever hit my ears:  “The guacamole is free today.”

WHAT?!  How was the guacamole free?  And more importantly, how did I not know about this?

Well, I wasn’t going to knock it.  Okay, fine with me.  I then asked how much my overflowing dinner would be.  And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, it did.

Cashier Accepting Credit CardShe told me my total charge was only $2.00.  WHAT?!  Did this cashier think I was homeless too and this was the reduced rate?  I would take it…I just wanted to know.

I asked what was going on, and Rose said it was a charity event where everything was $2.00 and the money went to Farmers’ Aid.  My purchase of Chipotle was only $2.00 and it was going to charity?  Could it get any better than that?

As I walked back around the counter after hugging Rose and the cashier, I couldn’t contain my excitement (or my gas).

I quickly gave her two dollars, all the while contemplating how many more times I could go through the line for $2.00 burritos.

I knew I could tell Rose the extra burritos were for my husband, but she would know the truth, and I couldn’t live with that.  Not after what we’d been through.

So I grabbed my five pound “salad” and headed to the door, hoping they wouldn’t tell me they’d make a mistake.

excited about fooseballWhen I got home I told my husband the good news but he seemed less than impressed.  Obviously he wasn’t charitable like I was.  I enjoyed every bit of my dinner, and I truly believe it tasted better because it was only $2.00.

Charity felt good, and it filled my belly.  I was quite the philanthropist.  And then I wondered where I could go to get some Halloween candy.

Maybe Walgreens was running a charity event on Butterfingers…

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