Actions speak louder than $

2003-01-13 - 4:08 p.m.

It's come to my attention that I have absolutely no idea how to deal with remarkable acts of kindness.

Prologue: The roomies and I moved to a new house in San Fran. In the years of late, San Fran has proved to be comparable to Manhattan in the white-knuckled-ass-raping-of-renters arena. We were very close to closing the deal on the new place, when the sum of our deposit made the leap from $500 (which was unheard-of) to $2000 (which was par for the course). The leap was attributed to our commonly abysmal credit ratings (credit reports read like a top score list for companies whose sole purpose it is to fuck you). Coming up with $1500 stat on my salary (thank you Bush economy!) is a formidable feat, so I turned to a secretary at work who has selflessly helped me out of smaller binds before.

Story: I asked for the dough and she gave it to me. That was it. There was no pleading my case, she didn't even really require an explanation of the situation. I told her I would be able to repay once we got our security deposit back on the old house. Time passes, and I have the funds to exact my repayment, which I do. She takes the fifteen Benjamin's, counts ten, and hands the rest back to me, suggesting I divvy it amongst my roomies.

The point: I feel stupid saying, "thank you," as I couldn't say it enough times to get the point across in its fullest. I mean, generosity such as this is mind boggling to me. The year is 2003 and money is sadly an immense part of our jaded lives. Living in an expensive city, working with stingy, millionaire partners has just fueled the fires of financial cynicism for me. I still try to be a giving person, but my means confine me so. Perhaps her means are more than mine in such an amount that her giving is analogous to mine, but such an amount is beyond my imagination.

Wrapping it up with a clich� because it's time to go home: Her kindness' value is greater in its sentiment than its cost and I couldn't possibly appreciate it more. To know that even a couple of people still exist who can make my angry heart blush is, well, priceless.