And That’s How The Kindness Cookie Crumbles, Part 2

I work at a mechanic’s shop attached to a gas station. The gas station part is tiny: a cashier’s counter with some snacks and candy bars under it, and a single drinks cooler. I’m getting ready to go to lunch when I see a young woman come in, scan the bottom shelf where car supplies would usually be, and then go back out to her car with the hood popped. I don’t have anything going on right now, so I decide to see if she needs a hand.

Me: “What were you looking for?”

Driver: “Huh? Oh, coolant. I’m not too low, but I was hoping to pick some up so I could top it off. It’s fine; I’ll make it to the next gas station.”

I check her coolant tank, and her assessment’s correct. It’s pretty close to the “low” line but not worrying yet. No reason to let it get there, though.

Me: “I think I have an open jug that’ll work for this model. Let me check.”

Driver: “Are you sure? That’s not necessary; I can wait.”

Me: “You probably could, but no reason to. I’ll be right back.”

Driver: “I— Are you sure? Thank you!”

I find the right type of coolant and top off her tank. As I finish, she’s rummaging in the back seat, and she pulls out a plate of gorgeous-looking cookies and sweets.

Driver: “Can I offer you a few cookies as a thank-you, at least?”

Me: “That, I’ll happily accept! What would you recommend?”

At her recommendation, I picked out a couple made with cherries and almonds and one with chestnuts and rum. My hands were still covered in coolant and engine grease, so she wrapped them in a paper towel for me, and we both happily went on our way. The cookies made an awesome addition to lunch. 

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