fifteen percent tip

It was almost time for lunch. It had been a busy morning. Busy but good. The boss had called him to his office. He had been nervous. It was that day of the year. He had spent most of last year in the office. He had done well. But he was nervous.

He got the promotion. And a raise and a new office. It had been a good morning. And now it was time for lunch. He locked the computer, grabbed his keys and walked out to the parking structure all the while trying to decide between chinese and a sandwich. He got into his car and started the engine. He decided it was worth celebrating. He decided to go to the pricey italian restaurant. He had earned it.

It was a warm sunny day. Perfect for driving with the windows rolled down. He rolled them down. It was two blocks from the restaurant. The light turned red and he slowed down to a stop. 

She could not have been over nine years old and she had a baby in her little hands. She was thin and pale. Almost thinner than the baby who just would not stop crying. She came to the car door with the saddest of faces and thrust the thinnest of hands towards him all the while struggling to handle the crying baby in her other hand. 

It must be one of those schemes to rob people. People like him. kind people. Who would fall for the trap and give away their hard earned money. It was one of those new cars. All automatic. He pushed the button and the windows started rolling up.