The Dollar Menu

Wil was on a frozen yogurt kick that went on for years. I don't even want to add up all the money we spent on his habit. At one point we were going daily, and nine times out of ten he'd bring along a friend, and I'd pay for the friend, too. And let us not forget, Wil would get two bowls, and I was forced to get one, too. So. A costly, but ultimately "productive" era that put some much needed weight on Wil, and introduced us to many new people and tightened the bonds between the friends we already had.

It should be made known that during this period we got to know the owner of our favorite yogurt spot, and when my book came out, he agreed to sell it at the store, giving me all the proceeds. The employees kept a Carrie Link envelope behind the counter, and they accepted cash and checks, so often I came in to pay for yogurt, and was given a stack of money. Not a bad gig.

But, as with all his phases, they end as suddenly as they begin, and offer no warning or explanation. They are just over. Now, instead of frozen yogurt, and instead of daily, he occasionally wants to go to the dive drive-in, home of the famous Kelly and the "Hope you feel better" milkshake. They have a huge board on the wall offering their flavors of milkshakes, and you can mix-and-match to your heart's content. Rootbeer/creamsicle/Oreo is a favorite. Large. I can now get him to also order a small, plain and dry burger, too, and if we do this anytime after 4:00 PM, it totally counts as dinner.

Like with the yogurt, Wil prefers we take a friend when we go. I guess he's bored to death of me. That, or he just really likes his friends. Let's go with that. Because there is often an inordinate amount of texting on his end, verging on coercion, I always offer to treat the guest. "Get whatever you want - anything at all - it's on me," I say. What I've noticed, is the guests fall into one of two categories: 1) They try to order as inexpensively/little as possible, or 2) They go whole hog.

The "cheap" friends order one little tiny cheeseburger and keep it at that. The whole-hoggers get the "basket" deals, and substitute the drink for a shake, then upgrade the shake from a small to at least a medium. When I say, "Get whatever you want," they actually order what they want.

There is no question I'm from the former group, whenever I'm being taken out by someone, I scan the menu for the cheapest thing on there, and order that. I wouldn't dream of "taking advantage" and getting what I actually want, let alone "upgrading" it in any way. The other morning in meditation I had the dawning realization that I have globalized that mentality. The Universe "says" to me/you/us every moment of every day, "What do you want?" and I, historically, order off the dollar menu.

I have committed to believing and internalizing that the Universe is at the least, as "generous" as I am, and certainly has more in store for me than a burger basket with a shake upgrade.