The Louisville Cheeseburger

Happy birthday to me. It’s Friday night, my birthday, and I’m alone in Louisville, Kentucky because of work commitments. The decision that lays before me is where to go for dinner. I’m not a big fan of sitting by myself at a restaurant and being waited on. So, I decide to walk to a cheeseburger place, called “Smashburger” just around the corner from my hotel. As I approach the restaurant, out of nowhere, I hear yelling. I spin my head around trying to determine where it’s coming from but find nothing. And then I see him. A solitary man, walking down the sidewalk yelling, waving his arms and arguing with what seems to be everyone, but in reality, is no one. Everyone he is around or walks by, dares not make eye contact so that they don’t attract his unwanted attention. He sounds angry. I too am not very interested in getting involved in his conversation, so I take a left at the corner in order to not cross the street to his side

I walk down into the area of restaurants, wondering if I really want to go to Smashburger or not (it’s on the other side of the street). However, seeing nothing else, I decide, yes, a cheeseburger it is. As I make my way back up the sidewalk, the yelling guy is nowhere to be seen and I wonder where he went. Inside of me this little voice whispers,”psst, I bet he’s in Smashburger”. “So?”, I say to myself and ignoring the little voice I go into the restaurant anyway

Inside, there’s a single line of about eight people waiting to place their order. As I walk in it seems that all of those in line are very uncomfortable, you can sense it. You know the feeling. People are looking at the ground and giving sideways, furtive glances at each other. And then I see the yelling guy. He is inside. He’s walking through the line asking people for money. Finally, he makes eye contact with me and asks for money so that he can buy something to eat. It’s then that I hear this voice speaking to him saying, “no problem, I’ll buy you something to eat” and I realize it’s my voice. I have responded to him in a way that leaves no room for confrontation while providing an opportunity to give this man a little help. This was not a formulated or previously thought out response, it was spontaneous. Sadly though, he doesn’t take me up on my offer but continues walking around the restaurant asking for money and finally leaves. As my turn to order comes, I decide to buy one meal to eat in the restaurant and one to go because I wonder if the yelling guy will be outside on the sidewalk.

After placing my order, I sit at a counter facing outside so I can people watch while waiting for my food. There is still no sign of the yelling guy, however, I do notice another homeless man, he looks to be in his early twenties, standing outside leaning against the building next to the restaurant entrance. I can’t help but wonder to myself, how did he find himself in this situation? What happened? Where is his family? Why is he here in this condition? No answers to these questions come and my order number is called. Collecting my two meals, I find a place to sit and eat my birthday cheeseburger. It takes me all of about 10 minutes to eat it along with a large fry, drink my coke and get ready to leave. Just as I stand up to leave I notice one of the restaurant employees walking towards the exit and I fall in behind her. She walks outside and with a shy, almost sorrowful expression on her face, she approaches the young homeless man. She tells him “sorry, but you’re not allowed to loiter next to the restaurant entrance”. He apologizes for standing there and begins to move away. I look at his face as he stares at the ground walking away and I immediately walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder. As he looks at me, I ask him if he’s hungry and would he like a cheeseburger with the works and a large fry. The expression on his face which 10 seconds ago was downcast, now brightens a little as he smiles and says “yes, thank you”. I hand him the bag and I walk away.

Crossing the street, I feel glad that I could help brighten this young man’s day a little bit, but inside, I feel that I missed an opportunity. Something wasn’t complete. I wished I had asked him his name and actually talked to him for a moment. I think about this as I walk down the street. It’s then that I notice he and I are walking parallel to one another, he on one side of the street and I on the other. I watch him as he opens the bag with the cheeseburger and fries and comes to a place on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant with an outside patio. This restaurant has a fireplace that is open to both those on the patio as well as passersby on the sidewalk. This young man finds his way over to the fireplace and sits on a ledge next to it, pulls out the cheeseburger and fries and starts to eat. He has found a comfortable place to sit, stay warm, and eat his meal. I don’t want to interrupt him, because maybe he's getting that feeling we all enjoy and maybe take for granted. A warm place, a place to be comfortable and secure, a place where we can eat something and for a little while not be hungry.

As my walk continues, I’m trapped in my own head, thinking about what just happened when lo and behold a fudge shop appears right before my eyes. Without thinking, I walk in and ask how much a piece of chocolate/peanut butter fudge would be. I’m surprised when the cashier tells me I can’t buy anything less than a full pound. I think to myself, “there’s no way I will ever eat an entire pound of fudge”. But, because it’s my birthday and I like chocolate, I buy the full pound, pay the cashier and start retracing my steps back to the hotel. As I’m walking I realize I’m now on the same side of the street as the restaurant with the fireplace, and I wonder if the young man is still sitting there eating. Then an idea strikes me and I hope that he is still there. I think this as I pull out my pound of fudge and break it in half. As I approach the fireplace, I see that he is there, just finishing his dinner. Going over to him I say hello and ask if he would like to share some of my fudge, “there’s no way I can eat a whole pound” I tell him. He looks up at me with a big smile and says absolutely. As he takes the slab of fudge and sets it down next to his fries I reach out my hand, look him in the eyes, and say, “hey, my name’s Joe, what’s yours?”. In response, he stretches out his hand, grasps mine, shakes it, and tells me his name. I say, “it’s nice to meet you, God bless you and take care of yourself, ok?” He tells me he will and says thank you for the fudge. I smile at him, nod my head, and walk away.

This small, insignificant interaction between two of God’s children now seems a little more complete. I know that I have not changed this man’s life or altered his future prospects as I walk away. I am a stranger in this city leaving the following afternoon. But for a moment, both he and I were more a part of the human race than maybe we had been all day.
God, in His grace and mercy, in less than an hour, has led me down a winding path of charity. I think how my heart changed from not crossing the street so as to stay away from the yelling man, to going to Smashburger anyway, to telling him I would buy him something to eat, to purchasing the extra cheeseburger and fries even after he left, to recognizing the difficult interaction between the restaurant employee and the young homeless man. Then, to giving him the food and feeling that our interaction was incomplete, to not being able to buy anything less than a full pound of fudge and finally finding him still sitting by the fireplace, sharing the fudge with him and completing our meeting. What started out as a response to a situation with one man from the streets turned into a very different interaction with someone else completely. God took an awkward, even uncomfortable scenario, turned it 180 degrees and created a new encounter that left me changed, blessed and a little speechless as I walk back to my hotel whistling….happy birthday to me.