I was a bummed when I found out from my brother that our Dad whose 60th birthday is a week away would be coming through Chicago for business. He didn’t bother to contact me, yet he wanted to grab dinner with my brother. Maybe it’s the sibling rivalry, but I was like meh, okay Dad likes him more because he’s married, has a good job, he’s about to become a dad himself and I’m here, barely getting by while serving tables at 26 with a degree in Acting. I’ve had a set schedule for the last year and it turns out my Dad remembered Thursdays are my work days, and didn’t want me to give up a day of work to get dinner with him. It’s been slow at work. Like, so slow. People aren’t going out to eat. They’re eating at home and renewing gym memberships, and in turn, no one is making money. Tonight, a particularly slow Thursday, went on very uneventfully until around 9:30. I went to check my section to see if I got sat, only to find a single man at one of my tables. It took a few steps before I started running to the table to find my Dad sitting there. He stopped in my work to surprise me. That fact, right there, alone had me choked up. Actions like that. They mean a lot, especially when they’re from somebody so important. He sat down, drank coffee and caught up with me for about a half an hour. I even bought him a dessert and sang Happy Birthday to him, which in turn, embarrassed both of us. After forcing him to eat an oversized dessert, he asked for his bill. I refused, telling him his money was no good at my establishment. When he hugged me goodbye, he slipped me this fifty and told me how proud he was of me. I smiled, walked him out and now that I’ve gotten home from my day, I’m finally soaking in these moments we shared and I feel so damn thankful. So. Damn. Thankful. I’ve got one hell of a dad and I just want everyone to know.