Write It Down

SLAP!

Was that the second or third time he had been slapped this week? After too many drinks and too many wrong things said, Marty was now trying to calm the ringing in his ears. Definitely fifth in the last two weeks, he thought, straightening his jaw.

He sat on the curb. “In the gutter where I belong,” he bullied. He wondered if enough slaps can give him a concussion? He stared at his reflection in a puddle, deformed by the rainbow of gasoline. He had never been called handsome, but he was a good (enough) looking guy who had the bad habit of running this mouth in the wrong race.

He pulled out his phone and bounced between social media and dating apps, scrolling and swiping, getting lost in the fact he was still the loser, smacked by his last five, maybe six dates, sitting in the gutter, probably with a concussion.

SPLASH!

A classic El Camino, silver blue metallic (fuck, even his color choice) ran through his self-wallowing puddle and Marty dropped his phone into his reflection. He felt around, noticing this puddle was due to a backed-up sewer, with an open grate.

“Shit!” he angrily sighed to himself. But before he could continue his pouting, he found his phone! Saved by whatever was blocking the drain. He shoved his phone safely in his pocket and yanked the package from where it was stuck.

It was unmarked, not addressed, clearly not cared for if someone left it in this drain. Or it was drugs. He quickly questioned his own morals, then opened the parcel.

It contained two items. One was a classic, black, hardcover, leather notebook, neatly closed and sealed with its elastic closure. The other was a simple, white envelope, inside a check for $20,000, made out to “Martin Martins.” It was always weird seeing both his first and last name written because he usually went by Marty, wait WHAT?! He read the check again. And re-read it. Blinked his eyes hard, maybe the ink was running from the puddle.

NOPE!

Martin “Marty” Martins was now $20,000 (and a random black book) richer! He practically skipped home.

He sat at his basic café table, in his modest bachelor apartment, illuminated by the neon from the sign outside, the check and book in front of him showcased in bright pink light. He finally opened the book.

What to Say and When to Say It was scribbled in the middle of the first blank page.

“Great, a self-help book,” Marty groaned to himself as he turned the page.

PICKUP LINES was underlined and titled the top of this ruled page.

Beneath it was, “Did I see you in that independent movie that opened at the Rialto earlier this month?” Marty read it aloud and smirked. “Huh, that’s pretty good actually.” He read a few more. They were all pretty good and there were at least 10 pages of them! He flipped quickly through and found some empty pages; he thought to add his own on the next available space. He flipped again.

CONVERSATION STARTERS AND TRICKS, in all caps caught his attention.

“Did you know that octopus’ have three hearts?” He wrote next to the sentence, “Love like we have three hearts.” That could be a pickup line! Following that starter came a trick perfect for Marty, “If you don’t know what to say, ask a question.”

Before he could turn back, the book fell open to its center.

KINDNESS in bold letters was written in the top half of the page, but nothing else.

“Fuck this,” Marty thought. “Bring me back to the pickup lines.” He stood from the table and crossed to the kitchen counter where he fished his phone out of a bag of rice. Returning to the table, he lined up his freshly dried phone with the check and with one click, it was deposited.

As quick as it was in his bank, the money was almost all gone again. He did buy a car, exactly like the silver blue metallic El Camino that was sort of responsible for changing his life. In fact, that was most of the $20,000, but with what remained, he was able to upgrade to a nicer, one-bedroom apartment in the same building, on the opposite side of the neon signage. A better home for him to feel better in.

This surge of confidence made Marty excited to return to some dating apps. He wrote a more compelling bio, took more flattering photos (or was he getting better looking?) and became more selective to whom he swiped right on. Texting with this new caliber of woman forced him to step up his A game in conversation. Every successful exchange he had, even if it didn’t result in a date, gave him more confidence and experience. He would write it in the book.

Finally, with enough mental and emotional foreplay, a date was made and it was time for Marty to put his new skills to the test; he definitely was not looking for lucky number seven slap.

Mary suggested they go for tea because of their delightful banter about their names being “one tea party” apart. Marty put that in the book.

They met at a quaint café, on a not-so-quiet street. Marty bought both their teas.

“Thank you,” Mary offered, then she too requested a black tea with cream to the cashier.

“Did you want another?” Marty asked, confused.

Mary laughed. “Sort of. It’s not for me.” And she left it at that.

Marty held the door open as they exited the café, still confused, but not for long. As they walked along the street towards their desired park destination, they came across an old man, sitting alone on a bench. He seemed lost in thought, or maybe sad and losing thoughts, Marty didn’t know, but Mary, sweet smile on her face, approached him.

“Hi! We have an extra black tea, with cream, with no one to give it to. Would you like it?”

The older gentleman broke his trance to be warmed by this gesture of kindness and returned a smile. He extended his hand and took the tea. “Thank you.”

“Have a nice day,” Mary chimed as she and Marty continued.

“Did you know that man?”

“No.”

“Then why did you buy him that tea?”

Mary laughed. “I didn’t buy the tea for him. I bought the tea and offered it to him as my random act of kindness for today.”

“Your what?”

“I try to act with kindness daily and share it with everyone. I bought the tea wanting to give it to someone. When I met the someone, I gave them the tea. It makes them happy and me!”

Marty had never heard of this, but it left him more enamored with Mary and now he had something to write under kindness.

Over the months, and eventually into years, Mary continued to have this beautiful effect on Marty. The pages with pickup lines and conversation starters or tricks were untouched and inside the book was filled with kindness. Eventually Mary became Mary Martins and they celebrated their anniversary in Marty’s silver blue metallic El Camino only blocks away from where he had originally seen it all those years ago.

Marty and his wife frequently practiced random acts of kindness and gratitude for things themselves and as a gift to himself, Marty wrote a check, to himself, for the $20,000 he had found forever ago. He sealed it in a white envelope. Then, with the black book, wrapped the two items into a tight package.

They left the restaurant drunk on love. Marty placed the package on top of his car and cozied in to Mary for a kiss as he opened the door for her. Her beaming face could light up any dark night, he thought as he crossed to his side of the El Camino, forgetting about his package on the car’s roof.

He drove away, slow at first, picking up speed a few blocks into their cruise. The package fell from the roof as the El Camino splashed through a puddle, causing a man, sitting in the gutter, to drop his phone, which landed perfectly on the package.

Martin “Marty” Martins was now $20,000 (and a random black book) richer!