alternative futures: Wash and Reset

it was a bright, chilly wednesday morning. we were standing outside the palace diner in biddeford, maine. osmond had heard a friend rave about this place just yesterday. we were too close not to go so we had made a plan to go.

there was a wait when we arrived so we grabbed some coffee, on the house. we talked for a minute about what an awesome idea it was to let your customers who are waiting have a free coffee. sure, you probably lost some coffee on folks who would bail before getting seated, but it was probably worth the goodwill and the extra folks who would have gone to another spot.

as marie (white), osmond (white), and i (black) were discussing the merits of free coffee for folks waiting, an unshaven person (white) who was clearly living outdoors walked up pushing a shopping cart. i prepared to give my standard line of not having any cash (which is true 99% of the time).

“if there’s one thing i’ve learned,” he said to osmond, “it’s that you should never trust a black person with dreadlocs.”

my jaw fell. didn’t see that coming.

i clenched my left fist, took a deep inhale, and shaped my right hand into a heart mudra. as i stared him deep in the eyes and exhaled, i watched the light fade from his eyes as i wiped his mind. i hadn’t expected to need to pull a Reset on vacation, but no place was safe anymore.

one of the heart mudras

he turned around, walked back in the direction he came from, and i hoped that the Reset would counteract the Washing given to him by his backwards society.

we went in to eat and i plodded through my food, exhausted.

as we took our selfie on the way out of the restaurant, i took note of a new chunk of gray hair on my scalp. just the price i pay i guess.

this is post #6 of the evolutionary leadership 250 words a day challenge.


words: 322