There’s Still Goodness in The World

by Jeffrey Mindell

It was 9 p.m. on a Tuesday night and I had a sudden urge for a few slices of pizza.  I pulled into the nearest pizza joint, placed an order with the small man behind the counter who spoke English with a thick accent, and made my way to a table to wait out the 10-15 minutes he said it would take.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only guy in town who was craving a pizza that late Tuesday night.  There was a rather robust gentleman to my left in a red and black-checkered flannel that easily could have passed for a lumberjack.  He had a thick beard and a look that said, ‘Just give me an excuse...’ A few tables to my right was a businessman in a well-starched blue shirt.  His tie was loose and he looked worn from the day.  And then there was me: hungry, tired, and wondering if I should have just grabbed a snack at home.

The TV blared overhead, and the newsman was saying something about some business scandal (who can keep track which one anymore), but I noticed that mostly the three of us just stared blankly into space.  The businessman started flipping absentmindedly through some real estate guide, the lumberjack was looking out the window, and I pretended to watch the news.

The restaurant was about to close, and no one else was in line, so the small man came out from around the counter with the TV remote in hand and began flipping through stations as he apparently waited for all our pizzas to cook.  I was expecting a sporting event to pop up on the screen, but much to my amusement, and utter surprise, he stopped on a cartoon - Tom and Jerry to be precise.

Tom was chasing Jerry through the house and tripped on something, his arms were flailing wildly as he started to fall backwards.  The small man began to giggle softly, the remote in his hand lowered.  On TV, the chase continued - over chairs, under tables, around and around.  I saw the corner of the businessman’s mouth turn up as he surreptitiously eyed the screen. 

Jerry had just barely made it into the mouse hole, and Tom’s hand followed him inside.  We all knew what was coming, what tragedy was going to befall Tom’s hand?  A hammer?  How about a mousetrap?  When the inevitable happened, and Tom’s hand swelled red, the small man laughed out loud, the business man smiled widely and nodded, I heard myself laugh despite myself, and even the lumberjack coughed out a few chuckles.

I guess you could say that four grown men sitting around together on a random Tuesday night laughing at cartoons is not that macho.  And that may be true, but for some reason that small moment together with those strangers filled me with hope that everything was going to be okay in the world. 

Besides, no matter how many times I see that hand in mouse hole gag, it’s totally hilarious.

Jeffrey Mindell is a writer, poet, cartoonist, lawyer, and all around nice fellow.  He can be contacted at jmindell@gmail.com.