Dine and Dash

At a sit-down restaurant, the act of receiving the services rendered and absconding without reciprocating is so easy, I am awed each and every time such trust is placed in me. A bar insists on payment or possession of my credit card before pouring me a beer, but any restaurant other than the fast-food variety will serve me food whose value far exceeds that of a single alcoholic beverage with nothing more than the unwarranted (so far as they know) belief that I'm a man who will pay his debt when there is no incentive to do so except retaining my honor in the eyes of strangers who work for a business which I have no personal stake in whatsoever.

Of course, I have never and would never violate that trust. I value it too much for that. The character of humanity is brought to lower and lower depths with each passing day, and the saving grace which keeps us from despair comes closer and closer to failing to match up. A slender sliver of that grace, in my view, is the fact that some remnant of trust between customer and proprietor remains- that there remains a small bond of respect and understanding between fellow human beings. I have to imagine that the day will come in my lifetime when even this will be gone. Perhaps when I say this it sounds silly, but that will be a sad day.