A generous man, or, why people cried at a gas station

Previously, on Gas Station Adventures: ^^I ^^should ^^find ^^a ^^suitable ^^theme ^^song

Of Porsches and Heroin
Of Christmas Characters and Alcohol
Of Small Boys and Bee Stings
Of Crazy People and Firearms
Of Fire Marshall Laws and Anger
Of Civility and Trespassing Laws

So, today isn't being fun for me, for a bunch of personal reasons that I'd rather not get into. So instead of the normal, crazy, 911-is-getting-called-at-some-point stories, I'm going to share a story that happened just after I stopped working at that station which should help me feel better, and restore just a tad bit of faith in people for everyone else.

In July of that year, I was fired from the station. This came about because I had been caught by corporate on my cell phone while at work (didn't matter that I was getting a call from my mom telling me that my Grandma, who was in hospice, had just slipped into a coma, and probably wouldn't make it through the weekend) and the manager had no choice but to send ol' Osiris a pink slip. I don't look good in slips, and pink is SO last year. Seriously, keep up with fashion trends!

Anyway, while I was no longer an employee, I was still there on a semi-regular basis. Several of the co-workers were good friends of mine and lived in the area, and my grandmother (the other one, the one in a coma didn't make it through the weekend. She was 104, and I miss her terribly) lived just a mile away. So I was in the area visiting on a regular basis. The station had good prices for gas and a decent beer selection, so I would stop in and chat.

As I turned on to the cul de sac, I realized that there was a news van in the parking lot of the station, it's antenna extended and what looked a lot like an interview being conducted in front of the store. I thought to myself "Self (for that is what I call myself), this isn't normal." I looked around, but couldn't see any police cars, firetrucks, ambulances, or other governmental/emergency vehicles that may provide a clue as to what's going on. So I park, walk over to the corner of the store out of camera shot, light up a cigarette, and proceed to try and overhear what's going on.

The reporter, resplendent in his dark blue I'm-on-the-scene-of-a-human-interest-story blazer, was speaking to the camera about someone's generosity. However, I didn't see anyone with him aside from the camera man and a rather bored-looking broadcast tech. Strange. Stubbing out my cancer stick, I walk into the store to see a couple of my old co-workers. They are BEAMING. Not that stupid forced customer service smile we've all had to shove onto our faces like a bad Dia de los Muertos mask, but real, honest smiles of joy.

"Okay guys, what's going on? The news is here, and you're all smiling wider than when we got those surprise Christmas bonuses last year."

One of the guys then explains what's been happening all day. Early in the morning, a man came in and asked to speak with the manager. They went back to the officer and talked for a short while, after which he came out with a happy smile and she (the manager) came out looking stunned. The man then went outside and stood in the middle of the pumps, waiting for the next car to arrive. As it drove up, he walked around to where the attendant was talking to the driver. The man held up his hand to stop the conversation, pulled out a $100 bill from his pocket, and said, "fill them up, it's on me."

And he had been doing that, for ever person who came into the store. All day long. When I arrived he'd been doing it for about 11 hours. He hadn't left once.

The station had become quite busy about an hour after the guy showed up, as people called their friends and family and told them to come get free gas. Even in a town as affluent as that one, $4 a gallon isn't exactly cheap. It had died down as the evening wore on, but the man was pointed out to me, still standing out there at the pumps, talking with one of the attendants. I asked the cashier why.

Apparently, the guy had recently been given a rather large inheritance, one he didn't feel that he should keep. So he decided that the best way to get rid of the money was to make a whole bunch of people very happy by filling their tanks. Over and over and over.

The reception by the community was shock, then a little suspicion, then grateful thanks. Many people had told him throughout the day how that rather small act for him had made their day or week so much easier. Several people who had been emptying change jars just so they could have enough gas to get to work were suddenly looking at full tanks. Tears were shed. Lots of them. The entire station staff was in the best mood I'd ever seen. And, obviously, someone had tipped off the local news, because they were down there covering the story for the evening news.

Not everyone had taken him up on his offer. A few had declined so that one more person other than them could get it. A few standoffish people didn't want anyone thinking they were getting charity. But the vast majority of people simply thanked the man and left the station, holding money they had expected to spend and smiling broadly.

I never found out how much the guy spent that day, but it had to be a lot. Our average intake per day was well over $100,000, so it wasn't cheap for him at all. I also don't know where he kept the money, since even in $100s that would mean a pretty damn thick stack of cash. All I know is that it was a beautiful thing to do, that his name was Dave, and that for one day he made a lot of people happy.

TL;DR - He who obtains has little, he who scatters has much - Lao Tzu