The Dignity in Being Able to Pick Up the Check
What this economy has taken from us
There is so much dignity in being able to pick up the check. I write from Southern Europe, where my partner and I are visiting his family, our first trip since cancer struck the both of us nearly a year ago. (Yes, both of us.) Last night, we had dinner with a dear friend, at a perfectly nice restaurant. It wasn’t high-end nor was it ratty. They don’t do fast food here. It was a solid, local, casual place. We had soup or salad, hearty entrees, and wine. And the bill was $45. For all of it.
My partner and I gladly paid. And we gave each other a knowing smile as he slipped our joint-checking card into the leather wallet for the waiter. My grin said, “That would have been $150 in the States.” He returned with a smirk that said, “At least.” As we left the restaurant, I slid my hand over his shoulder and whispered, “God, it feels good to be able to do that.” He nodded, completely understanding. “Right?”
We weren’t showboating by picking up the check. We didn’t make a big deal of it. It was an act of gratitude, a symbol of thanks to our friend. Thank you for the warm welcome. Thank you for your friendship. It has been a devastating year for our finances, as we struggle to make ends meet while we both battle illness. But even if it were a normal year in our…
