Charlie and his father approached their fifth restaurant. Charlie had said he had time for one more. The bell on the door jingled as they stepped inside. Charlie pointed to the only empty table near the back and they sat down. A waiter came over to their table and asked them what they wanted. This time, Charlie's father had no problem answering. Charlie breathed a deep sigh of relief. Then his father added, "Bring it fast. It doesn't seem like you're hustling." Charlie rolled his eyes and noticed that the people next to them, a young boy and a man who looked to be his father, were staring at his father.
The young boy, Roger, was whispering to his dad. There was no salt on his table and the closest salt was at Charlie's table. He wanted it but felt uncomfortable asking for it. He asked his dad if he could do it for him, but he refused. When he thought no one was looking, he ran over to the table and snatched the salt away. He scurried back just before his father looked at him.
Roger's father said sternly, "Did you ask him for it, son?"
"Yes," Roger replied quietly.
"Good."
Then from behind him, Charlie's father yelled, "Hey, kid! I saw you take my salt! That is unacceptable. Did you see that, Charlie?" Everything in the restaurant turned almost silent. Roger's face reddened. "Kid, come over here. You know what? Never mind. We're leaving. Come on, Charlie. There's gotta be a problem everywhere, doesn't there?"
As they left, Roger finally took notice to his shaking.
"Sorry dad," he said. "I just wanted some salt."
"It's okay. Just don't do it again. I don't want this becoming a cycle."
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