January 20th, 2012

Control Tower

The Secret of N.I.C.E.

So apparently I radiate some kind of low-grade psychic field that makes people want to be nice to me.

I ran off to Chipotle to grab a burrito for dinner on the plane tomorrow. Upon reaching the cash register, I reached into my pocket and discovered a distinct lack of... anything.

ME: Oh, jeez. I seem to have left all my credit cards and stuff at home, so if you could just hold onto that for me for five minutes, I'll be right back...

MANAGER: Don't worry about it. I got it.

ME: Wut?

MANAGER: I got it. You're all set. *comps my burrito*

ME: Well... thank you very much!

So that was cool.

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This seems like the most rational explanation for why I encounter so many nice people who do nice things for me. Because otherwise, I have to assume that I've got some kind of Luck stat, and that it's very high. And that's just weird.