Pay it Forward

I’d been scrolling through Instagram for the better part of the morning. My acquaintances from high school really seemed to be thriving. I would be too if I had what they had. Yes, @maryanntiller had founded a wildly successful nonprofit. But her dad gave her the first contribution and I heard it was like a million dollars. Yes, @rip_baby had a massive, sun-drenched studio where she made interesting, beautiful art that she sold for thousands. But I know for a fact that her parents fully bought her an apartment when she first moved to New York. Yes, @abidoesfitness was a beautiful yoga instructor and fitness influencer. But I’m almost one hundred percent sure that her mom paid for her to get butt implants as soon as we graduated. Life’s easy with money. It’s easy to be generous and hot and creative when you don’t have to work for a living. Unfortunately, that was simply not the situation I found myself in. I worked for everything I had and I helped others when I could. But I just didn’t have enough money to live the lives these people were living.

I tore myself away from my phone. I needed cheering up. I walked to the coffee shop near my building and got a quad soy mocha with an extra pump and a scone. I decided to eat and walk. I had a hair appointment in Manhattan that I didn’t want to miss. But before long, I got tired of walking and decided to just order an Uber. After my hair was done, I thought I’d take a walk to clear my head. No sooner had I put my Airpods in, than some woman tapped me on the shoulder and spat on my jacket. I screamed and a nearby police officer promptly responded. “I’m sorry about this, ma’am. She does this kind of thing all the time. This is the third time she’s been arrested this month.” Crying, I took my jacket off and threw it in the trash. It would have to be replaced – who knew what kind of diseases she might have? I walked to a vintage store and rifled through the racks. In the end, I left with two pairs of shoes, a skirt, a bra, and a leather jacket. On my way home, I passed the spot where the woman had spat on me. In her place was a man leaning on a walker, rattling a bowl full of change. “Can I have some change, please?” I told him I didn’t have any on me. When I got home, I watched some TV and ordered Thai food.

The next morning, my best friend Jen called. She had just been let go from her job. She was absolutely panicked. I told her it would all work out and asked if she wanted to meet up for brunch later to get her mind off it. As I got ready to walk out the door to meet her, I put on my new leather jacket and noticed that there was something in one of the pockets. It was a little, black book. I opened it to a random place. To my surprise, there was a hundred-dollar bill taped to either page. I flipped through the rest of the book and found that there was a hundred-dollar bill taped to every page for 200 pages. There was $20,000 taped to the inside of this book! I screamed. I was so giddy. I couldn’t believe my luck. Finally, I was being blessed in a big way. A life-changing way. This was the first day of the rest of my life. I flipped to the last page. In sloppy, thick Sharpie, someone had written, “Pay it forward.”

I met Jen at the restaurant. I ordered eggs benedict, a Bloody Mary, hash browns, and a latte. Jen got oatmeal because she was worried about money. Like I always say, it’s good to live within your means. I wanted bottomless mimosas. Jen said she couldn’t afford it, but the restaurant’s rule was that if one member of the party participated in the bottomless deal, everyone had to. So, I offered to pay for her mimosas, too. Like the book said, pay if forward. I told her that I had recently come into a small inheritance. I told her that I would use it to pay off the rest of my student loan debt and put the remainder in the bank. I didn’t think she needed to know where the money really came from. She would just be jealous, given her current circumstances. All throughout brunch, Jen talked about how afraid she was that she would never find a job that she loved as much as her old one. And about how she was worried she wouldn’t be able to pay her bills in the meantime because she didn’t have any savings. I felt so sorry for her. I daydreamed about all the ways my life was about to change now that I had the money to fall back on and thanked my lucky stars I wasn’t in her position.

After brunch, I walked around my neighborhood. I stopped in boutiques that I had never gone inside of and bought whatever I wanted. I decided that I needed to make some changes to my home décor. I thought it was important for my new life that I feel inspired by my surroundings at all times. So, I bought all new furniture and hired some guys to get rid of the old and bring in the new. I was feeling excited. Expectant. Hopeful for the first time in a while. I walked home. On the way, a group of activists raising money for some environmental protection organization asked me if I could donate. I pretended I didn’t hear them and kept walking. When I got home, I saw an old man sitting on the ground in front of my apartment building’s door. One of his shoes was missing and he seemed to be sleeping. I stepped over him to open the door and my presence startled him awake. “Can you help me out, please?” he croaked out. I told him I didn’t have any cash on me.

Back in my apartment, I took the little black book out of my pocket and stared at the money. Honestly, I had no clue what I wanted to spend it on. After the shopping I had already done, I had about $14,000 left. I needed to make a plan. How could I use this money to give myself the life I wanted? What life did I want? What are my interests? My hobbies? I like reading. I like TV. I used to like playing music. I took violin lessons in middle school. In fact, I used to be pretty good. But I hadn’t even touched a violin for years. Maybe I could buy a violin and sign up for lessons with a really good instructor, I thought. And that’s what I did. The cost of the violin and one year’s worth of lessons left me with very little money. But I was fine with that. It was an investment for my new life. After a few lessons, I would find a band to join… or maybe even start one myself. It would be a hobby at first – just playing at open mic nights and dumb bars. But soon, we would get a little bit of attention and before long, we would be able to earn a living off our music.

I took lessons for a couple of months, but after a while, things kept coming up and forcing me to cancel. Before I knew it, I hadn’t been to a lesson in weeks. I felt guilty, but I was really going through a busy season. As soon as it passed, I would get right back on track. But the season never seemed to pass. It’s fine. I didn’t really take to violin again anyway. I always felt bad practicing at night when I got off work because I didn’t want to disturb my neighbors. And come to think of it, I didn’t even know anyone else that played instruments. So how was I supposed to start a band, anyway?

My phone lit up with an Instagram notification. @rip_baby had reached 50,000 followers. To celebrate, she was doing a raffle for one of her paintings and donating the money. I flicked on the TV. It’s easy to be a success when you’re born with talent, I thought. The rest of us have to work for it.

Jen called. She was crying because she still hadn’t found a job. I consoled her and then nonchalantly encouraged her to check her mailbox. When she did, she cried even harder and thanked me effusively. Earlier that day, I had dropped the little black book with all that was left of my money into her mail slot. Sure, $400 wasn’t that much, but it would definitely help her out. And it’s not like I was in such a great financial situation either. Luckily, I had decided to sell my violin, which would more than make up for that loss. I told Jen not to worry about it. “Make sure to pay it forward!” I said.