It feels like Christmas morning.

I placed an apple and two small cucumbers on a flat rock among the shade trees yesterday and the night critters came and ate them up, like Santa eats cookies, but instead of crumbs, they left little balls of poop behind as evidence of their true existence.

It was a strange and intense feeling to pretend to normalize the disturbance for the safety of my kids and everyone else while simultaneously contemplating an escape route or violent defense measures. The entire half of the crowded restaurant was completely silent and stunned by the wild man until I purposefully blurted out how good our arriving food looked and broke the collective tension, all while keeping my high level of awareness of a possible volatile situation unfolding directly behind my youngest son. The other patrons began to murmur and mutter as the shift manager reluctantly spoke to the obviously frustrated man wearing a pink fuzzy, bear eared hat with matching pink fuzzy gloves, his voice stammered, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave”. “I’m waiting on somebody!” the flustered man forcefully blurted out, pulling on his three layers of sweat pants worn with the waists just above his thighs.

The manager looked back across the dining room at the waitress with the phone ready in her hand, signaling with a nod to dial the three dreaded numbers, 9-1-1. The manager walked away for a moment to reassess the situation as I subtly watched the disturbing man for signs of danger. He was mentally ill or tripping on some kind of drug. Probably both but he didn’t seem intent on hurting anyone. He was clearly on a personal mission, of some kind, inside his head.

Before his dramatic entrance, I was looking behind me, searching for our server. The place was busy, it’s always busy, but they seemed understaffed and stressed out more than usual. The lingering pandemic has taken its toll on Denny’s. The usual staff was different from our bi-yearly visits. My favorite guy, who resembles Samuel L. Jackson wasn’t there, and neither was the heavy set, pretty faced Black woman with the beautiful smooth skin, like creamy chocolate. The doppelganger, Samuel, was especially good with breaking through to my youngest son, who has always had difficulty in public with sensory overload. I imagine Samuel saying very loudly to my son, “Pancakes motherfucker! Tell me what kind of motherfucking pancakes you want!”. He never said anything like that, but he was a little bit forceful in a great way. More like Samuel Jackson- lite. The woman was also really great with him just being extra nice and patient.

And as pretentious as it sounds, I chose this particular retro styled Denny’s years ago, on the east side of town, specifically for its diversity. Also, the 1950’s style chrome and curves added a nifty cool atmosphere. I needed my children to be aware and unafraid of people of color, and this Denny’s provides a beautiful rainbow of all humanity. We purposefully have planted our roots in an affluent area, in a white conservative world, (where I personally don’t belong) taking advantage of a highly acclaimed public school system. I firmly believe it’s important to understand that other people and other worlds exist. It’s the only way I know of to protect my offspring from the ignorance of classism and racism, even if it puts us all in danger apparently.

As I scanned behind the counter, I noticed a group of three servers had stopped in their tracks and were fixated on something outside the front doors. I could tell something was going on but could see nothing out the window looking out to the entrance. Whatever was happening was out of my view until the ragged and tattered homeless man stormed his way inside, stomping towards us and slamming down his clear plastic bag with unknown objects onto the booth table directly behind us, scattering the dirty dishes and spilling a cup full of liquid onto the bench seat and pouring to the floor. I was immediately suspicious of what was in the bag and my horrible mind pictured a bag full of feces. I was not going to say it, even if it was true. We were in a restaurant, my kids were fussy, and we were starving. Nothing was going to ruin our meal. Not even a crazy fuck with a bag of shit.

The cagey gentleman immediately turned and huffed his way back out to retrieve an unopened large cardboard box that seemed to be a desktop inkjet printer. He powered back and slammed the box onto the table, displacing more syrup sticky plates and knives and forks, and then forcefully sat down with a puff of air blowing out of the seat cushion. He grabbed the box and threw it on the floor at his feet then started to reach down into his sweatpants. I instructed my kids not to look since I really thought he might pull out his privates. Thankfully, he didn’t. He was just re-tying his sweatpants waist strings. I started to get a small sense that he wasn’t there to hurt anyone. He was just having a bad day. That’s when the manager approached sheepishly and asked him to leave.

The second time the manager asked, the man stood up and adamantly said, ” Lead the way!” The manager was frozen for a moment and I was just about to intervene and suggest he actually lead the way. But thankfully, the manager did, and the homeless man in peril followed. We took him for a man of his word, and to his credit, he was.

The disruptive scene was over, but the man forgot his plastic bag. I wondered if he would suddenly return in a storm and blaze but I assume he was either detained or was at a distance when the cops arrived, making it impossible to retrieve the mystery bag.

My oldest kid and I pointed out the precarious container bag to the waitress to investigate. She did not, but instead called over the young busboy and told him to throw it in the trash. He picked it up with two fingers and placed it in his grey plastic bin beside some plates. I was still concerned for our health and safety and asked him what was in the bag, he picked it up haphazardly and said, “look like a apple and some cucumber”. I thought, ‘no way those are cucumbers, who eats raw cucumber?’

I told him to give me the bag so I can give it back to the wild man if I see him. I pointed, drawing an invisible directional path, around the table, to the chair next to me. I couldn’t have him hand it to me over my youngest son’s plate of food. That would have been bad. That would have ruined the meal.

The cops outside the front door were just hanging out it seemed, leaning on their cruisers and having a casual conversation with each other. I never could tell if the homeless guy was in the back seat of either car as they eventually drove away.

We finished our meal and I paid an undeserving tip, since our server never gave us silverware or cream for my coffee that I’d repeatedly asked for well before the initial disturbance. The food was delicious though and the cooks always deserve their portion of the tips, always.

A deep breath and calming of the nerves and I realized at that moment that I’d also achieved another lesson in diversity for my kids. This is exactly why I chose this Denny’s and it always delivers.

We had a moment to discuss social issues, like ‘Defund the Police’, where this homeless man obviously needed a social worker instead of a cop. We also agreed hypothetically, that a redneck openly carrying a gun is more terrifying than a homeless man having a psychotic episode.

I thought about leaving the bag somewhere he might find it if he came back, but decided to take the chance on seeing him somewhere. I drove down the frontage road where the homeless used to camp and convene. The white collar city officials have recently cracked down on the homeless, making it a crime to live in certain areas so there was no real good way to find him. I was hoping for a chance encounter to return what rightfully belonged to him. A touch of fate. It was also a very healthy snack he was really going to miss, but he was nowhere in sight.

My kids and I went on to our next destination and adventure for the day, putting the earlier events and lessons behind us. My only satisfaction is that I saved the food from the dumpster and gave it to a forreging animal instead.

I then shot and killed the animal and left it to rot as a warning to others to stop shitting in my yard.