June 17th- Brendan Served Me

As I awoke I knew I had nearly 600 miles to drive to Thornton. This morning would be my last run in Utah until I’d make this drive again in a year or two.  Too, I may decide to travel through another area of Utah next time for the scenery and the new running environment. Yet on this day I would run on the mountain bike and hiking trails I hadn’t yet ventured to.

I got out onto the trail head after six in the morning. Parts were lumpy from the mountain bike tires that had previously been there after a short rainfall. I knew I’d only have time for an hour run at most. I did loops in the areas of the trail areas mostly in the open areas, since I hadn’t put any bug spray on. The bugs seemed quiet on this entire trip. No complaints there.

Once I’d finished my run, and cleaned up I knew to check the car’s oil. Although everything seemed fine, I wanted no surprises. Too, I’d gas up, get ice and potable water after parking my car 300 meters down the road from the hotel at a service station and check the oil.

Nearly meters away from the service station—I was taking the ramp to I-15N for 75 miles. Later I’d be onto I-70 E, the Dinosaur Diamond Prehistoric Highway for over 500 miles towards Fort Morgan. I prayed that the road on the Dinosaur Diamond Highway wouldn’t be filled with the feeling of ‘Rosie the Riveter’ under the car. I’d had just about enough of that the last two times I’d driven west on that section of highway mostly in the far-right hand lane—with about twenty or more miles of constant rumbles due to the road’s inadequate repairs.

Aside from all the goings on in our universe, I prayed that getting onto the I-76E to the I-25N wouldn’t be as haphazard as I’d remembered from last year’s drive. I was arriving at about the same time or worse closer to their rush hour this time around. The ride held its beauty and was for the most part uneventful—that was as I’d just missed a hailstorm of quarter sized hail in Denver and Thornton areas the hour before. Coupled with major flood-type downpours I’d inadvertently avoided. Sheer luck or miraculously—I’d take it.  

Soon, I was taking exit 5 onto the I-25N, I was close to my destination and to my surprise the traffic was albeit crowded, it moved well and I was soon checking into the hotel in Thornton. As I checked in, I wondered if they’d give me a room on the new top floor of the hotel. I didn’t ask, I wished for it in my mind before I’d pulled into the hotel parking lot. And so it was, I was assigned to a room on the top floor. Sweet. I actually didn’t know how great it would be. However, as I’d gone for my second run of the day, I discovered relatively new corporate areas of interest. Too, I wondered what the real estate was like for young up and comers and young families as I passed a modern looking office for Google. The lay of the land was not so much the city, nor its occupants. It was, if one was observant enough, to have realized the Rocky Mountains could be seen northwest of the city. Too, there were tree-lined streets, a large park and pond area and modern architectural landscaping could be an attraction for young middle-class couples to work in and raise families.

After I’d finished my evening run, and cleaned up, I exited my room, I saw a man about my age.

“Nice new floor. Huh?” I remarked

“I always take the top floor in the hotel.” He replied.

“What if there’s no rooms on the top floor available?” I asked.

“They have to give to give it to me. I won’t take anything other than a top floor room.” He sternly responded.

“I never thought to ask. The reason they gave me this room, was I stated I’d like some extra quiet room. And the front desk person said that there was a diving team that probably would be celebrating on the third floor. So, I’m grateful the front desk was looking out for me.” I smirked.

He nodded. “That’s why I always request the top floor.” Then added.

“Thank you for that advice.” I noted.

 

Soon we arrived on the first floor, and we parted. I went to the front desk, no one was there but Michelle who’d checked me in. She was a petite, reserved, fair-looking, bashful, young lady with a long strawberry-blonde ponytail. I thanked her for giving me such a nice quiet room on the top floor.

Somehow, we’d began to talk about how 2020, COVID affected our families. I think it was with reference to how it affected school, graduations and the like. I told her that my husband had passed during that time, and  how our daughters had to deal with that strange time and heartache of losing a parent.

“Me too. I lost my mother at that same time. And not of COVID either.” She said.

We spoke a bit more about the losses her and our daughters sustained in an uncertain world and time.

Next, I was off to eat. I cut through a mechanic’s shop area, there were big puddles of water I’d been noticing since I’d arrived that afternoon. I then saw a worker smoking a cigarette, two of the service bay doors were open. It was about six in the evening.

“So, what’s with all the puddles of water I hadn’t experienced any rain on my way driving into town.” I asked.

“Oh that was a little over an hour ago. Big storm, dropped quarter sized hail.” He stated.

 “Wow. I didn’t know it hailed here.” I remarked

He nodded and continued “Yep. Here the weather is in constant change.”

 

About 100 meters later I entered a steakhouse. It was quiet. Yet, it was a Tuesday evening. I was seated immediately, and a young server was present. I gathered that he was about age eighteen. I figured that out, as I’d ordered a glass of pinot noir. As I’d asked him beforehand about the brands they’d have of pinot noir currently. It was a humorous exchange.

 Soon, he was back with my water and glass of wine. I placed my order. He was quite detailed and prompt with the service. I made note of that. I did so, because many people keep telling me how horrible Generation Z is—as well other people putting down the Millennial Generation. I have had my fill of older generations negativity on others who are trying to make their way in this mostly unpredictable world we’ve provided for them. What the older generations are not considering is that in 1962 there were 3.6 billion people in the world. Now, there are over 8.2 billion people in the world. That matters. Too, the older generations have pushed for a more expensive living, while not raising the price paid for the younger generation and the problems with more people in the world that they have and will encounter.

So, here was this detailed young man, who made one error. It was so minor. And I realized he was new to the job. I made note of all the positives and if he had time I would point out his positives. He needed to know his positives, if he hadn’t already.

After my food was delivered, he’d checked in with the quality of the food he’d served. He reported to his manager something he’d forgotten about, and she told him that dessert would be on the house for me. I expressed there was no need, that they were doing a good job regardless. I was already satisfied. He insisted. I then ordered their carrot cake with a coffee. As I sipped my coffee, there appeared no other people for him to serve. I said,

“Hey. You know, I noticed you have great attention to detail. That’s super important. Most people are not so aware in detail.” He thanked me. I then realized I could engage him in conversation.

“I bet I’m your grandmother’s age.” I continued

“How would you know that?” He asked.

“Because you’re eighteen, your mother is probably age 46 and that means your grandmother is about age 64 to 68 years of age. I’ll bet she’s age 67.” I replied. He was stunned.

“How did you know my mother’s and grandmother’s age?”

“I did the math. And I’ve been around. I’m just about 63.” The look on his face was priceless.He then took a seat across from me to inquire how I’d observed what I had. I began:

“I was in the Marines decades ago. We had to pay attention to detail. And I served recently in AmeriCorps. You’re at the perfect age to want to earn student funds for your education.” He smiled and leaned forward. I continued, “So, my thought is, you could benefit greatly by working in our national parks with AmeriCorps and earn in three months volunteer time $1700 towards you college education, plus they give you free room and board and a stipend of $10 per hour.”

“Let me write this down he said.” I nodded. He went and got something to write on. When he came back, I gave him some financial advice. He wrote it all down.

“By the way—what’s your name?” I asked.  

“Brendan.” He responded.

 

Brendan and I spent some time talking about how his father took a job in Texas and moved down south when he was in sixth grade. I expressed to Brendan, that was the time in my life that my family moved into a new home, in a different town. I explained that it was tough to move at that age for children. He then said,

“Yes. But my dad realized he’d made a mistake thinking that job was going to benefit us more. And when we moved back here in my tenth-grade year, our home that we sold for $330,000 was now going for over $500,000 and we couldn’t afford to buy it back. My dad felt bad. So, we have a smaller house now near here.”

“How many kids in your family?” I asked.  

“There’s four of us.” He replied.

 

We talked about the park and pond I’d been running through. He said it was one of his favorite places and enjoyed the fireworks holiday there every year.

Soon, it was time for me to pay the bill and depart. At the end of our conversation I said,

“Remember, your dad didn’t make a mistake, he made an adjustment that you all can learn from.”

He nodded and said, “He’s accepted that now. And we’re happy.”

 After paying the bill, I shook his hand and thanked him for such good service and left.---Jody-Lynn Reicher