The Dollar Bill

When I was sixteen and working as a lifeguard at the Kiwanas Pool in Waco, Texas, I had my own money for my expenses. It was so nice to be able to buy gas for my car, eat out when ever I wanted, and not have to depend on money given to me by my parents. Somehow it did not bother me at the time to be living and eating at home for free. Ha Ha.

One day while on break from the swimming pool, I drove to a very nice but casual seafood restaurant located in the neighborhood. I had the best lunch and was having such a great day until I reached for my wallet to pay for my lunch.

I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and reached into the compartment that held my money only to find a single dollar bill. I did not have the wallet out where others and I could see it, that would be tacky I thought. All of a sudden my happy independent day turned to crap with thoughts of what happened to my money. How was I going to pay for lunch with a one-dollar bill?

The waitress came by and asked if there was anything else I needed, I not wanting to give away the fact that I was broke, ordered desert! Then I put my wallet back in my pocket with that one lonely dollar bill and thought about how I was going to get out of this situation.

After four cups of coffee and one slice of cheesecake, and five more dollars in debt that I did not have, I decided I would have to call my father for help. Dad worked just down the street at the Waco Paint Center and could easily help me out. I had a hard time with this decision to call for help since I was trying to break away from the parent child situation. Then thoughts of having to do dishes to pay for lunch, being embarrassed in front of the waitress by not being able to pay for lunch, made me realize I should be happy I had someone I could call for help.

I made my way to the pay phone; at least I had a quarter to make a call. I called Dad and told him I was just down the street having lunch and had left my money at home and needed him to come pay for my lunch. Dad was real nice about it, said he would be right over and not to worry. Several minutes later Dad showed up and came to the table and assured me he was happy to help me out.

The waitress came by and Dad ordered coffee so as not to give away my problem. I was real happy that Dad did not talk down to me or make it obvious to everyone about what happened. In fact Dad never told anyone about the incident that I am aware of. We had coffee and talked about school, my job, his job and the fact that we were both happy we could call each other when we were in trouble. Not that Dad ever needed any help from me, but it was nice that he mentioned he could depend on me. Dad and I left the restaurant and headed back to our respective places of work.

As I got into my car I was still trying to figure out what happened to my money. I pulled my wallet out and opened it to look into the money compartment. As I looked into the compartment that held that one lonely dollar bill, a smile came across my face and I turned solid red. The lonely dollar bill in my wallet was in fact a lonely Twenty-dollar bill. I had sufficient funds to cover the meal all along. I did not tell my father about this for at least twenty years!