Who Cares
“Do you think he is gay?”
Scott grimed, “Of course, he is, look he wears an orange sweater!”
“I am not an expert in gays, though you might be right. Who cares!”
Next time we entered the restaurant, Jason – the same manager - wore another bright sweater but he smiled to me and walked me to the table by my arm, leaving my husband behind.
“No, he is not gay! But who cares! It was very nice of him to do this!” It puzzled me, though that Jason switched his attention to me this time.
My curiosity made me spy after Jason during the breakfast.
“Scott, look, did you see that? The manager almost ran toward the door and took an older lady by her arm…”
We both twisted our necks watching Jason and his next partner. The procession was so out of space – it could better fit a wedding, but it seemed bothered no one.
Soon, we found Jason’s charm to be authentic and warm, but our curiosity was hard to tame. We decided to investigate.
“Jason, could you sit down with us just for a second? I have a question for you! How do you select who do you take to the table by the arm?”
He winked and smiled, “That is a very complicated question. I look for non-verbal signals and if I see someone, who can be blessed by special attention, I go to that person. It is hard to explain, It's intuition: at the door people do not yet try put themselves together. If I see a woman, who looks lost or sad, I immediately act upon my gut-sense. But I am more careful with those who are reserved. It is essential to be non-aggressive. I take my role very seriously. Especially I am very careful with people in wheelchairs – they want to prove their independence and I do not want to take it from them.”
I looked at Jason and caught myself thinking, who cares is he gay or straight! But I do care when someone makes people a little happier.
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