You don’t expect to find enlightenment at Wendy’s.

I was there this afternoon, the one on Sunset Boulevard right off of La Brea, enjoying a burger after seeing Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay.

The place was crawling with high school students that looked like they were on a field trip or something . .  except I didn’t see any chaperones.

I tried not to let their high-decibel antics harsh my mellow and enjoyed my burger.  However, further irritation came from the table to my left, where a woman was listing an undending litany of complaints to her girlfriend.  Not too loud . . . just consistent, like a mosquito that you can tell is on the other side of the room.

Then the most threatening thing to my burger high of all:  A beggar sauntered into the busy dining room, and began to make his way from table to table.  Great, I thought.  Why doesn’t Wendy’s management stop this guy from bothering their customers?

He got to my table and I gave my usual Get Lost look.  He moved on to Miss Complainy McChatter. “You hungry?” she asked him.

A moment later she was at the counter, buying him lunch.  As she passed by me on the way back to her table, I spoke up.  “Ma’am?”

“Yes.”

“You put me to shame.”

She sat back down and I tried to enjoy the rest of my meal.

I am one of those people, I realized.  One of those assholes who likes to talk about the Big Picture, aspires to own a Prius, is seriously considering buying a reusable grocery bag.  But I’m too lazy and cheap to help someone right in front of me who has an immediate need.

I realized I finally understood the difference between “nice” and “kind.”

“Nice” is when it doesn’t cost you anything.