For a couple years during high school I worked as a lifeguard at the local YMCA. Basically, I viewed my job as a glorified nap time. My gift (or is it a curse?) of falling asleep anytime I sit stationary for more than 20 minutes was on display regularly.

Joe worked there, too. One Saturday afternoon Joe and I were the only people there. No one had been in the pool for a couple hours when a man and his son came in. They were regulars. The kid was probably five years old and would do crazy shit off the diving board with reckless abandon, while his dad paddled water and watched from the deep end.

On this particular day Joe and I must have looked especially bored. Maybe I was sleeping. After the kid finished on the diving board, they both got out of the water and the dad walked over to us and asked us what kind of pizza we liked. Joe and I thought the question was kind of strange, but answered.

Twenty minutes later the guy walked back in to the pool area with a pizza, gave it to us, and thanked us for the hard work. Joe and I conveniently ignored the “After Eating Wait 30 Minutes Before Swimming Or Drown Immediately” rule and ate the pizza. It was an unexpected and nice gesture and I haven’t forgotten it.

Fast forward six or seven years later to today. I see this guy every single morning at my local Starbucks. I want to thank him for the pizza, see if he remembers, and buy him a coffee, but I haven’t gotten around to doing it yet.

Maybe tomorrow.