Cookie Karma

‘C’ is for Cookie and that’s good enough for me!

I am a firm believer in Karma, or “what comes around goes around” if that fits the bill better. See, the universe is all on this zero balance kick and when you screw up the books by doing something bad or something good then the universe has to go about making sure that something bad or good comes back at you. That way the zero balance is maintained. Screw someone over? Now your bad karma meter has dipped low and the universe has to go out and find you some sort of bad karma to fill the deficit. Do something good? Same thing but with good stuff.

I much prefer the good stuff.

So I tend to do more nice things for people, especially if it’s no big to me. Thems the best kind of nice because I don’t have to put forth a lot of effort and people are all happy like and “zing” good karma imbalance. I’m all about the lazy. On the flip side, I am leery of going all bad on someone unless there is just cause because I really don’t need a FedEx package of bad karma delivered to my doorstep. Not to say that I haven’t gone all cranky on some complete fuck nut, especially if they are one of those rude self centered gets that make life miserable for everyone else. In that case, I figure they have just overbalanced my bad karma so I can afford to go all rokokyu on their asses. I think of it as helping the universe out. Mostly though, I like to stick to the easy small good karma acts of lazy kindness. Maybe I’ll get that printed up as a bumper sticker.

Saturday before the party I drove the behemoth out to the local Dairy Mart to pick up some ice. It’s not located in the happiest part of town so things can get, shall we say, dicey after dark but during the day it’s not so bad. Besides, it’s fairly close and convenient when the sun is out. I was all about convenience Saturday so I ambled myself into the store to check out the ice situation. As I got to the doors a lady in her car hailed me and asked if I would go change a twenty for two tens because her baby was asleep in the car and she needed change for the sitter.

I first thought that she was either desperate or ballsy to give me the $20 and trust me to go in and get her change. True, it was somewhat safe in that the store has only one entrance and she was sitting in front of it and most likely could either catch me or make a fuss and someone else would catch me if I made off with her $20. Then again, I could have easily just up and walked off with her bill and thought nothing of it. Of course, I’d be walking off with only a $20 for all the potential fuss and it wasn’t worth the trouble. You know, if I were a $20 steeling kind of person and thought that taking off with her $20 was worth the risk. Not that I would or it is or…ummm, right. So it took me by surprise that she would grab just anyone off the street and ask them to change a $20. Maybe I have one of those faces.

My next thought was that maybe it was a counterfeit $20 and she was laundering it. That too could have been a real possibility so I took a quick peek at the bill to see if it was overly suspicious. To my very untrained eye everything seemed to be in place, it wasn’t crisp and to all scrutiny was a harmless circulating $20 printed by the government. So I did her a favor and went about my task of obtaining ice.

Flash forward (except as you are reading this it would be actually backward. Temporal brain hurt) to yesterday at lunch when I took my remaining $1.87 to Mrs. Fields to try and satiate my chocolate/sweetie craving. The thing I hate about Mrs. Fields is that there are no prices anywhere. I have $1.87 left to my name in cold hard exchangeable currency so it would be nice if I could just look at something and know right off if I can afford to buy it or not. No such luck though, when I asked the cookie lady pointed to herself and informed me that she was the price list.

Ooookay. So the process of “Guess what I can or can not afford” began. First it was the cookies. How much? I explain to her that I have $1.87 left and was looking for something sweet to eat. She tells me that the dipped cookies are $2. How is that going to help me? The regular cookies are only $1.80 (with tax? Without tax? She never got to that) so I settled on a snickerdoodle. They make a pretty mean snickerdoodle. However, the snickerdoodles are the “giant” cookies (if we were at Starbucks it would have been the venti cookie) and cost $2.30 or something. I am disappointed and decide to let another customer who came up behind me go first. I hate being stuck behind someone like me in a limited funds but unlimited sweetie craving mode.

The new customer offered to just buy me the cookie (out of frustration? I couldn’t tell at that point) but I declined. There were still options and I was thinking I might just go with a few of the itty bitty cookies. I was mulling things over (and ignoring the new customer’s order although I did overhear her order a snickerdoodle. I told you those things were good!) and getting ready to step up to the order line when the new customer was getting her cookies. Just as I was set to order, she hands me the snickerdoodle and tells me to enjoy. Woah! Totally out of left field. I offered her my $1.87 but she was all about sharing the cookie love and walked off all smiles and happiness. I guess she was out to do some Karmic good that day and decided that I really needed the snickerdoodle. It was a mighty fine tasty cookie treat.

So, for changing (and perhaps laundering) a $20 on Saturday, I got me a venti snickerdoodle on Monday. I like me some karmic go around.

Comments are closed.