Age had a funny way of creeping up on a person. You had become somewhat complacent. Everything was figured out. You had routines and stuck to them and were happy. All you wanted, and all you needed. Then all this comes right along and throws it out of kilter, but instead of feeling mad or howling at the world in general, you...

It's like your brain got younger with the rest of you. It doesn't help that, looking in the mirror, you're just as old, if gender flipped. Is it wrong that the lady looking back at you is nice looking, for an older woman? Well, shoot, they say you should love yourself, and that is you, so, sure! Looking good!

But it was time to be nice, and you have an idea. Was it a good idea? Let's not get ahead of ourselves, but it was at least an idea! There was this guy, and he's right where he usually is. Baking in the Florida sun. Homeless, but making it work as well as a homeless man does. He's almost a fixture of your block.

And today you'd say more than just 'hey' as you scooted past. You'd walk up to him. He notices this fairly quickly. "Got a dollar?"

You do have a dollar, but that isn't the goal. "Hey, you've been around a while. What's your name?"

This takes him by surprise. "What? Why do you want to know?"

"People deserve to have names. You're a person."

He looks a bit taken aback. "Uh, sure... Steve." He climbs to his feet instead of looking up at you from where he had been sitting. "You?"

You don't give your old name. It hardly fits your current form. "Nice to meet you." You offer a hand towards him.

He takes the hand, but he's also tense. "This is nice and whatever, but what did you want?"

"Just to meet the people who live around here." You wave your reclaimed hand around. "That wrong?"

"Most wouldn't say I 'live' here. Don't got a house. No address anywhere close to here, or anywhere." He shrugs with a grunt. "So if you're looking to make good with the neighbors, you're barking up the wrong tree."

How to approach without coming off as a creep? "Not looking for that, but I was gonna get something to eat. Wanna come with?" You hike a thumb towards where a McDonald's waited a block away. "Gonna be another hot one."

"It's already fucking sweltering," he laughs, brushing his sweat with an arm. "What's the catch?"

An idea comes to you. "Wellness training, online thing. They have like a thing to do each day, and today is 'be nice to someone you never talked to before.'"

Being nice for an outside reason, less suspicious. "That's stupid as hell." But he wasn't leaving. "You gonna get on me for eating whatever?"

You wave him onwards. "I'm the one taking you to McDonald's. I have no room to then complain that you get what they have."

A short and quiet walk later, you push into the building with a refreshing blast of cooler air. "Get what you want." You gesture for the menu. You're already headed for one of those kiosks to plug in your order without bothering the waiter up front.

"Shit, right." Oh, he followed you. "I don't have no damn card to use these things with." But you do, so you step aside with your order complete. He moves in and begins swiping around, picking out a lunch. "So, feel better?"

You? "I haven't eaten yet."

He pressed the finalize button and got things going. "I meant helping me. It's to feel good about yourself, right?"

Well, crud, that is what you said... "I just wanted to be good to someone. No ulterior motives. If it helps you get through the day, then I did it right."

He punches your shoulder lightly. "You're a crazy bitch." It takes some amount of talent to say that while sounding friendly about it. "So you just want... this? Ladies your age usually got better to do."

"I'll wait for the order." You point to an open seat. "Why not relax?"

"Yeah sure." He wanders off to do some not-standing.

While you wait for the food to arrive, one of the workers plonks down two cups. "Here you go." Right, you had ordered drinks, and they had a soda fountain. You thank the man and take the cups. As you return to your new friend of the day, you see another worker is also at the table, one hand on it.

"Look, we told you not to come in here," angrily ordered the man, sounding tired about it. "What is it with you people?"

You hurry in, putting the cups down between the two. "Thanks for saving a spot." Without even looking at the worker, you casually sit across from the attacked homeless person. "They're still working on it, but go ahead and grab a drink."

He snatches one of the cups. "Yeah, thanks." He gives the worker a nasty glare, but sets off to do that.

The worker sighs wearily. "Is he bothering you? I can call the cops... if they feel like showing up."

You hold up a hand. "He's with me. We've paid for the food. Is there a problem?" Sheesh, what a jerk. Well, to be honest, you wouldn't have stopped him from chasing off a random vagrant a week ago. Ugh, you were becoming soft... "Hard day?"

"You do not know. Ever work retail?" He's looking at you with an obvious challenge.

You describe one retail gig you held, and he seems to soften a little. "Then you know. Managements all over me about keeping 'the image' right, which means chasing after guys that might stab me. I don't get paid nearly enough for this, but what's the alternative?"

Retail, it sucks. "I hear you. Seriously, he's with me, my problem."

"I'll hold you to that." He seems a little more relaxed as he wanders away.

And you feel good? Wait, was that enough to be a little bright spot in that retail worker's day? Sure, you just promised to take care of any mess your homeless friend made... Some people just need a scrap of decency, you guess. They call your name from the counter, but before you could consider getting it, your new friend's getting it. He was already close, at the soda fountain.

He returns with a tray that has both of your selections on it. "Here you go." He puts it down and slides in across from you. "You get that guy to back off?"

"He's just having a rough day. He won't bother us again. At least today." You couldn't promise that would continue onwards. "Retail's hard work."

"Wish I could complain about that." He took a big chomp of his fish sandwich. "Fuck."

Well, shoot, it was your turn again. "So... if you don't mind my asking." You nibble on a few fries, one at a time. "How did you end up, here, like this?"

"That's a long story." He takes another big bite and washes it down with whatever soda he had picked. "And you probably heard it before."

"I'm listening."

Maybe it was the way you said it, but he slumps a little. "Fine... Look..." And he begins to tell the tale of his life. He dropped out of high school to help get money for his house, and had no support of any kind when that hit a bump in the road of life. Next thing he knew, he was on the street. His parents were quite dead, and he had no siblings or other family worth talking about. "And there you have it, another damn bum on the streets. Not what I planned, but who gives a shit about that?"

"I do." Not that you have the answers to it all. You had lunch for the day. That felt so incredibly inadequate...

"Stop looking at me like that." He takes some of his own fries, gobbling a handful of them without delay. "I've seen that look. Not aimin' for pity."

"It's not pity, it's annoyance, at myself."

"What are you annoyed about?" His eyes drop to your food. "They get it wrong?"

"No, no." You start on your burger. "Just seeing the world's mistakes and wishing I could fix it, but no idea how to do that."

He swats at you. "Well, whatever. At least you're thinking about it. More than most people manage." He grins, a few missing teeth displayed along the way. Dental care was not a given for that sort of life. "So, my turn. If you had a billion dollars, no strings attached, what would you do with it?"

What a question! "Uh, hm... I could drastically improve 100k people's lives without thinking about it. That would be the easiest."

"Stop being so nice." He glares at you. "Now, me, I'd set myself up first. Get a house nailed down, then I can do stuff from the house."

Well... "Already have one of those. I have enough to survive on, not too much more, but enough." You turn your hands palmside up. "So may as well make some bright young things have a happier life."

"Why 100k? What's a k anyway?" He sucked down some sugary goodness.

"Thousand. A hundred thousand people get one hundred thousand each. That'd change how things are going, but a lot I imagine."

Things grow quiet with just the noise of the Mcdonald's around you and the eating to keep company. "That's a big number..."

"You started it," you jest, waggling a fry at him. "You could be one of the first, so now it's your turn. Here's a hundred thousand. What do you do with it?"

"Shit..." He finishes his fish burger and casually wipes his hands on his sides. "Shit, that's a lot of money. That enough to buy a house?"

"If you look in the right place." Lucky for him, neither were that close to any city centers. The prices were lower. "The farther you are from a city, the cheaper it gets, as a rule."

The conversation wove and twisted with thoughts of what to do with that hundred thousand. "I should go." He pushed off the table back to his feet. "Look, you're still nuts, but thanks." He offers his hand, and you take it. Rough, callused, and showing the signs of his rough life. "Take it easy, alright?"

And so he departs, leaving you alone. On one hand, you feel good for making a few lives a little better, on the other, you didn't change either in any permanent way. A little kindness. It would have to do? Not awful for a first day! You dig out your phone and get to dialing on the way out.

The worker catches your eye and shares a nod. He's glad there's no huge mess being left behind, or so you can guess. "Nick?"

"Hey! How'd it go? It's not so easy being a pillar of the community, is it? You're alright... right?"

You're already headed on the way home, phone held up as you chatted. "I'm fine. Just helped one lost person that society conveniently forgot, and shared a moment of empathy with a slave for our convenience."

"Damn, sounds like you got right into it." Something was being pushed around. "I gotta get back to work, but that sounds awesome! You get that nice buzz?"

"Pretty sure." It was hard to put a hard number or anything on. "Does that mean it worked?"

"Sounds like it. I'll show you what to do with it later. For now, enjoy!" He hung up without further preamble.

But he was still working, not retired like you. But could, and should, you remain retired? You were given a new lease on life, and the energy to go with it. Perhaps it was time to get back on your feet.

Author's Note

I gave a lot of options, and there was a lot of scattered thoughts in reply. Nopony wanted to check out the knife guy, forget him! The winner is clearly 'let's do something kind!' with only some debate in how big to aim for.

New poll! https://forms.gle/AynwtFGAya5oeKvT8

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