The thought of tipping the driver hadn’t occurred to me. But as I was sitting near the door of the shuttle bus that would take me to the New Orleans airport from the rental car shop, a passenger stuck his head in and handed the driver a couple of bucks. “Here you go sweetheart,” he said. He’d just gotten off the bus, coming from the airport.
I glanced around and saw the other guys there begin fishing for their wallets at about that time. So I did, too. There were about a half dozen of us, each calling out the airline we were flying as we approached the terminal. Mine was last.
“Last but not least,” she said as we pulled up in front of the Continental sign. She was a friendly lady, intent upon her work but willing to joke with her transportees. I stood and put some cash in her hand, and then said, pretty much spur of the moment, “Can I say a quick 10-second prayer for you?” I knew she probably wanted to hurry on, but I also knew she was a bit trapped. I’d just given her money, after all.
But she genuinely seemed to appreciate the offer and said that I could. It was indeed a 10-second prayer. “Thanks!” I said when I finished. And I hopped off the bus and walked into the airport.
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