I guess I’m the sucker – just ask Alex and Courtney. A & C (as we will call them for this blog) came out to World Headquarters this past Friday. We spent the day reviewing accounts and strategies. At about 1 pm, I took the team to lunch at the Washington Crossing Inn (me, A, C and Kim), hoping we would see some of the local personalities like Pirate, Jellybean and Puppet (but, this is another blog altogether). Afterwards, we came back to the office and wrapped things up for the day. I drove A & C to the Trenton Train Station. Alex has always been quite fond of TRE and, in particular, of the “Candyman” who used to work at the newsstand. Alex has been traveling to and from TRE from NYC for five years. A few years ago she told me about the guy at the newsstand who would mumble vulgarities and other unspeakable things to her when she picked up water or magazines for her rides back to NYC. One day I was at the train station very early and I was crabby. As I was buying the newspaper to read on my trip into NYC, I saw the “Candyman”. Without thinking, I told him I didn’t appreciate the language and comments he was using around my employee. You can imagine how he felt. With about six other people in the line, all he could was apologize. But, again, that is not what this blog is about. It’s about the little side trip we took on the way to the station on Friday. We stopped into Pete Lorenzo’s steakhouse, located right across the street from the station. As we pulled up (this is a usual side trip!), we turned over the Z28 (1994) with the top down to the friendly parking attendant. He keeps the car about front for a tip (and will even vacuum the vehicle if you are there long enough). And into the bar we went for a cocktail. Courtney likes the Absolut martinis. I also indulged with a martini; Alex stuck to white wine. I began chatting with a gentleman who came in. When he told me it was his birthday, I wished him a happy one and bought him a beer. As we continued chatting, he asked to borrow my phone. I dialed the number for him and handed over the phone. He said we should have a drink together and suggested I buy the round – I did. He made another call – trying to get a ride home – no problem. Then he repeatedly said he needed to have a conversation with me. He asked if A & C were my daughters. I said yes, but that Courtney was adopted. Jokingly, she said I was a mean father because I always told people she was adopted. We all laughed, but I think the gentleman believed us. He remarked he could tell Alex was my daughter because of the dimples; “They’re fake,” I responded. Then came our conversation. He needed “cab fare” to his apartment ’cause his “girl” was too intoxicated to drive and pick him up. I asked how much, he replied $20. I said sure as Alex and Courtney rolled their eyes. “There by the grace of God go I,” I said. My father always had a pocketful of change. I never knew why until he died, when a friend told us he never passed a homeless person without giving them something. I have another friend that is so generous to the homeless. I remarked how great he was, handing out $20 here and there. He told me he had been there and knew what it was like. There by the grace of God go I, I thought. -Fran Gallagher, publisher and CEO