I was having a bad day, and I needed a cookie.

So I go into Empire Cafe for a cookie.
"Just one chocolate chip cookie, please," I say.
The tall, bearded youth at the counter plucks a cookie from underneath a glass dome and slides it onto a ceramic plate while I rummage in my purse for change. "81 cents, please."
There is no change.
"I'm sorry. I must have left all my change in the car," and I am about to say, "Will you take card?" But before I get that far, he puts up his hand.
"Take it," he says, "Enjoy." I stare at him blankly, and he stares back with a look so penetrating that something meaningful must have been happening.
I'm not sure what it was, but I'm certain it was meaningful.
I thanked him and walked out, feeling like a character in some warped version of Pay it Foward, because I honestly felt that I owed someone out there a cookie.
Not a bad feeling, and a pretty good cookie.