The Secret to How I Caught the Attention of a Rich, Older Man: Part 2

The old man’s com­ment put me in a much bet­ter mood, but I still wanted to get out of work as soon as I could. I quickly punched in his order, hop­ing to end my shift early. As I went over with his beer, I saw that he was hav­ing a con­ver­sa­tion with my man­ager. I approached the table, and my manger turned to me and said, “As per Derrick’s request, you get a five-minute break. Appar­ently you’ve had a shitty day.”  He winked at me and walked away.

Also see: The Secret To How I Caught the Atten­tion of a Rich, Older Man: Part 1

I really do appre­ci­ate the effort, Derrick—that’s your name right?” I asked, adding, “But I really am try­ing to get out of here early, so I think I’ll skip the break. Here’s your beer.” Before I could get away, he said, “Der­rick is cor­rect.” I stopped and looked at him care­fully. There was some­thing strangely amus­ing about this man, and I’m not really sure how he did it, but the next thing I knew, I was sit­ting across from him spilling the beans about my hor­ri­ble day.

I don’t remem­ber too many details about the con­ver­sa­tion, but I do remem­ber laugh­ing a lot. I also remem­ber hav­ing a really strange feel­ing in the pit of my stom­ach. I was oddly attracted to this much, much older man. Five min­utes later, he informed me that my break was over and that it was a plea­sure to meet me.

Appar­ently I was wrong about him—this man had absolutely no inter­est in me. When I brought over his order of wings, he asked for a take-out box and wished me well. I’ll never for­get his words: “I’ll bet you a mil­lion bucks that your night is about to change.” The smile on his face was mys­te­ri­ous but allur­ing. I couldn’t help but offer him one last smile. “I hope you’re right, sir,” I said as I walked away.

I was get­ting ready to end my shift when my man­ager came over and handed me the tab I had left with the older man. My man­ager looked at me smil­ing and said, “You’ve got to see this! You must have done some­thing right.” I opened the tab and saw a hand­writ­ten note read­ing: “Reck­less dri­ving never did ben­e­fit a soul. Thanks for the smile. Der­rick Frei­d­man. And if you ask your­self why, it’s because I can.” I flipped through the receipts and saw my tip: $100 cash. My jaw dropped in dis­be­lief. I knew I couldn’t pos­si­bly accept this money, but deep down inside, it felt too good not to.

I left the restau­rant and saw Mr. Frei­d­man stand­ing outside—I knew he was wait­ing for me. His smile—not to men­tion the hun­dred dol­lar bill in my pocket—had made my day. I for­mally intro­duced myself, and then offered him my phone num­ber. That one meet­ing was the start of what would become my emo­tional, three-year jour­ney with an older man.