Safe Haven

 Admittedly, I have been spending too much time at the neighborhood McDonald's. It is perhaps a betrayal of a commitment to slow food, healthy eating, and localism, but it's right there, and I don't have to cross any major streets to get there. Anyway, I often see the same man at the neighborhood McDonald's. I'll call him Gabe. He's one of those guys that could be anywhere from 50 to 80, and I can't tell. When I first met him, he seemed solicitous for my well-being. He asked me if I wanted a refill on my drink, and I did not, because even I don't think 32 ounces of Coke should be upgraded to 64. We started talking about kindness--ironically enough--and we both decided that we thought there wasn't enough of it in the world. I decided that Gabe must've been a leader of men at some point, like a coach or in the military. Still sharp, and perfectly able to tell people what to do, if the need should arise. I thanked him for his kindness, and we went o