Have a Nice Day

        At McDonald’s yesterday two gentlemen opened the door as my sister and I left the building.  They both called out to us, “Have a nice day.”  I couldn’t help but think back to another time when someone called out the same. 

       “Have a nice day,”  What a cliche’.  You’ve got to be joking.  Get this picture.  Here I am walking away from a door of a home in our community having delivered a brochure.  I step off the porch onto the ramp and the next thing I know I am sprawling across the lawn and feeling terrible pain in my right ankle and left knee.  I roll over onto my back and brush freshly cut grass from my face just as the elderly  homeowner races from his house.  He shouts for his wife to call an emergency number and then begins brushing grass from the front of my blouse  in a rather personal way while all the time emitting a steady flow  of pleas that I not sue him.  He tells me that he doesn’t have homeowners, and advises me of the futility  of suing because he doesn’t have any money anyway. If the pain wasn’t so severe  the whole situation would have been hilarious.

     By now I can sit up and from this position see clearly what caused my fall.  There on that ramp is a hole about 12 inches in diameter and 10 inches deep…covered by a large rug. He is still brushing and pleading and I am still unsure what if any damage I have sustained.  After a few moments I am able  to crawl to a sitting position on the edge of his porch and  assess the damage as minor.  I attempt to console the man that I do not plan to file any complaints against him, but do insist he do something about that hole.  As my friend helps me limp toward the car I look back one last time at the culprit in my fall and there see what I failed to see earlier.  In large red capital letters printed on the rug are the words, “HAVE A NICE DAY”.


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