A couple of weeks ago, something happened that I had never quite experienced before. I was sitting at a “sports restaurant” type of establishment watching the Florida Gators play football. I had actually finished my meal and it was nearing the end of the ball game (unfortunately, without the result I had desired), so I decided I would go ahead and pay my nice server for my meal. The nice server told me, “Oh, someone has paid your ticket. They have already left, and I didn't get their name.” I sat there dumbfounded. I looked around and asked the nice server if she was certain they had left the restaurant. She smiled and assured me they had. I told the nice server how thoughtful I thought the gesture was and I wished I knew who my anonymous benefactor could have been. I looked around and beside my table was a good friend from here in Madison. He could have been the guilty party, and it is certainly within the realm of possibilities. I know this person to be the kind of person who would do something nice and enjoy watching the recipient trying to figure it out. Was the nice server merely trying to put me off the trail when she said the kind person had already gone? I don't know for sure. I did speak to my friend and we had a nice chat about football and Thanksgiving coming up. If he were the guilty one, he certainly did a good job of keeping his “poker face.” I have had others pick up my lunch tab before, but this was the only time it has happened where the person remained anonymous.
This experience reminded me of another activity I had heard of. I've heard of families doing the “Ninja Santa” thing. With “Ninja Santa,” a family will select another family (perhaps a family where a family member has been in the hospital or it may be a family without much money for Christmas presents, etc.). Then, in the dead of night, perhaps on Christmas Eve., the “Ninja Santas” deliver the presents and goodies to the front porch of the recipient's family. If there is one member of the “Ninja Santa” gang who is particularly fleet of foot, that person could ring the doorbell, then make a getaway without being detected.
That is certainly the kind of clandestine caper I would have enjoyed in my younger, more fleet-footed days. I may still take a cue from my own “Ninja Santa” and secretly pick up the lunch tab for someone. I may even do it by leaving a message like, “Don't worry about trying to figure out who I am. Instead, use that energy to pass along your own 'anonymous act of kindness,' thus joining the 'Ninja Santa Society.'”