Judge Not

A couple of years ago when I first moved back to Cincy I had a job working in a huge office building's cafeteria. I kind of shudder to call it that because it was nicer than the word cafeteria suggests. I was the cashier, salad bar attendent and baked the cookies and muffins. I stocked the cups, plastic ware, condiments and wash some dishes. I hated getting there at 6am, which is WAY too early. My feet killed me after being on them for 8 hours. It just didn't work out.

I forged a bit of a friendship with one of the cooks, Daniel. He was a bit on the strange side to say the least. Quirky would be a good word, awkward is another good one. He had recently gotten out of prison and rehab. He was actively involved in the Salvation Army and a new Christian. He was an intimidating tower of muscle but had a sweet, gentle disposition. Based on some of his behavior and some of his stories, he was still a little rough around the edges but had come a long way.

In the few months that I worked there I didn't have an episode of depression. I was on a bit of a spiritual God high and feeling really close to God at the time. I couldn't help but sing all the time and smiled a lot. He called me "sunshine" and "smiley".

Daniel was in charge of the breakfast sandwiches. They were yummy combinations of egg, cheese and breakfast meat on a croissant, bagel or biscuit. Some days we sold out of them and other days we had 5 or 6 left. We couldn't sell them the next day so they were up for grabs. Daniel always took them all and didn't offer them to anyone else. I was kind of miffed by that. I like them. Jason likes them. Everyone likes them some free food ya know?

I never told anyone, but was secretly annoyed by it. One day out of nowhere Daniel said "You know those breakfast sandwiches? I've been bringing the leftovers to some of those homeless guys that live under the bridge. This one guy had the sandwich unwrapped and was eating it before it left my hand."

I don't remember how I replied. I remember how I felt: stunned and ashamed and put in my place. I probably didn't speak at all but just stood there choking on my ugly heart.

I haven't heard a word about Daniel since I quit in May 2004. The people who own the business go to my church but I've never asked them. I know it's twisted but I sorta don't want to know. I need to know but I'm afraid that he quit or got fired or relapsed. Maybe it's because I know he had a high opinion of me and I can't live up to it. He knew the happy, cheery, somewhat naive living in the Spirit Jennifer and I haven't seen much of her since my friend Brian died (June 1, 2004). She's starting to come around though. Talking about yourself in the first person is weird, isn't it?

I had some spiritual breakthroughs the past two weeks. More on that to come...

Anyway, I should find out how Daniel's doing, if they even know the answer..sigh...
To tell the truth, I've hardly spoken to them since I quit because I feel guilty. I gave my 2 weeks and everything but I just felt like I let them down. Oy vey! False Guilt! Issues! Baggage! When does it end?