Today is the day I make a startling confession.
What I’m about to tell you is 100% true. It’s absolutely awful, but it’s completely true.
Once upon a time, years and years ago, I was a legally considered a child (so I can’t be charged for this). Around this time, I tended to get into trouble on occasion, much like a sleepwalker in a nursing home.
Twiddling my thumbs, waiting on line to buy a gyro sandwich at a summer festival for the local Orthodox Greek School, a sudden hunger fell over me like a storm cloud.
For those of you who were children at one point or another, you remember that time never seems to pass as youngsters. When you would wait for your parents to finish talking with some stranger, it’d feel like the whole day was burning away. Childhood was an eternity.
Having taken this into account, recognize that waiting on the line for this gyro felt like an eternity to me (even if it was only 10 minutes).
After a bit, I noticed a woman, mid-30’s, pushing a triple stroller. It had 3 babies in it—triplets, not much older than maybe 2 months. She was also holding a toddler, maybe 18 months, with her other hand. In addition to these 4 children, she was also watching another little boy, maybe 5 years old, who was holding on to the stroller’s handle so he wouldn’t get separated from the crew.
Clearly, this woman was severely overwhelmed by the stressful situation. Those on the gryo line insisted that the woman to skip to the front of the line—completely understandable; nobody would have wanted to be in her position.
Sure enough, she received her food relatively quickly, which she put in the basket area of the stroller before continuing on her way to find a place to sit with her children.
At this point, I saw an opportunity.
Because she was preoccupied by the screaming toddler in her arms and the 5-year old who attempted an escape towards the funnel cake stand, I reached into the stroller with absolutely no hesitation, and I stole a single French fry.
Within a few seconds, the mother successfully wrangled her children and continued on her path.
How awful was that?
In itself, stealing a French fry doesn’t sound too bad, and it wouldn’t be, but the circumstances amplify such a microscopic act of thievery into being borderline evil behavior.
All she had to look forward to was enjoying a few bites of her gyro and French fries before carrying 4 kids around with the hopes of satisfying the demands of her 5-year old who was dying for some bumper cars (which I totally get).
I took what little she had, virtually diminishing the micro-fraction of her night that might actually be enjoyable.
Again, it was only a single fry, so she wasn’t actually affected by it, but the morality behind my decision was of very poor quality.
It was only, like, 5 more minutes before I would have gotten my own food anyway.
And I ordered fries!
And they weren’t even that good!
I’ve been trying for years to imagine a scenario where what I did would have been arguably worse, but I haven’t been able to imagine a single one. This woman looked absolutely exhausted and beaten down from these children, yet I made a mockery of the circumstances and stole a French fry.
Looking back, if I was given the death penalty tomorrow for having stolen that French fry all those years ago, I would accept graciously. I’d even convince the judge to use whatever method of the death penalty would cause me the most pain. That way I’d be most capable of feeling remorse for my actions.
If you’re still out there, ma’am (and I hope you are for the sake of your children), from the bottom of my heart, I apologize.
Until next time,
Michael J. Erickson, CEO & Co-Founder
