Perkins off 169 North

I go to Perkins off 169 North late most nights to write and drink coffee. The staff knows me well enough to always seat me somewhere near the back and are kind enough to never hold me to three dollar minimum purchase and two hour maximum stay.

One night, near the end of her shift, a waitress bustles over to my table to drop off my ticket. She hesitates then says, "Hey, you want a donut? We've got some back in the kitchen."

I smile. "Sure. That'd be great."

A moment later, the waitress appears with a glazed donut on a small plate. I thank her and she says, "Don't mention it. We worry about you, you know. None of us have ever seen you eat. Just coffee and water."

I laugh and assure her I'm not it a bad way, or anything, and that I appreciate how she and the rest of the staff look out for me.

The waitress smiles. "Enjoy the donut. It's good."

Much later, I head up to the register, two dollars in hand for a ticket that always comes to $2.01, and panic when I see the penny dish is empty. I explain my plight to the young hostess, how I don't have the penny I need to settle up.

The young hostess smiles. "Don't worry about it," she says.

"Thanks," I say and, calling upon my best Tennessee Williams drawl, I continue with, "I've always depended on the kindness of strangers."

The young hostess laughs heartily. "You're welcome. Have a good night, now."