It was Dec 31, 2013. While the rest of the west coast was clinking flutes of bubbly, I was lying face down on a public bathroom floor.
Two girls about ten drinks deep recklessly cut the fifteen women waiting for a stall. As I was coming out, they shoved me so hard that I smacked the concrete bathroom floor, my face and shoulder breaking the fall.
The two girls exited the bathroom, casually stepping over me, while my friend peeled me off the floor and gathered my purse and gold sparkly New Years heels.
I was so mad these girls had gone on with their evening, week, months, while I was missing work, hobbling around to doctor’s appointments, fighting with insurance, taking antibiotics, managing a lot of pain, and feeling helpless. I even had to teach my boyfriend how to put my hair in a ponytail.
When my sister came to relieve him of his styling duties, we took a little fieldtrip to get sandwiches at LA’s best Italian deli. After waiting thirty minutes just to order, we migrated over to the check-out line to wait another thirty minutes.
The man ahead of us noticed my sling and said he had broken his collarbone too and knew how much it hurt. As we approached the register, he removed the rubber bar separating our two orders and treated us to our expensive lunch (we had already planned to treat ourselves to quite a little feast).
With his kindness, I quickly forgot how angry I was at the girls who had broken my collarbone. Wonderful, kind people do things like this for strangers all the time.
He’ll never know truly grateful I was for that free sandwich. It was more than just a sandwich - it helped me emotionally heal, and, ease my fear of a crowded women’s bathroom. Never underestimate the power of a tiny gesture – you have no idea whose day, month, or year your kindness will make.