When everyone was saving up and swimming the ravine,

When all you really thought about was buying your first car.

Even if you never plan on going very far.

I was serving soy lattes to make a measly buck.

And one day when I felt like I could use a little luck,

[door chime]

An old man came into the store and ordered a tall drip.

"A large black coffee please."

[coffee pouring]

Waited kindly, smiled and paid.

Even left a tip.

I'm not sure why I noticed,

But as he approached the door, he pocketed some sugar packets

Then he took some more.

I didn't think to much of it, but when the next day came,

[door chime]

He ordered. Waited. Left a tip. And then he did the same.

The third day, he came walking in.

[door chime]

I asked him quite in vain,

"Some sugar in your coffee sir?"

He said, "I take it plain."

He smiled, left the tip and winked.

Then as I watched him leave,

He grabbed three sugar packets up, and put them in his sleeve.

I couldn't think of why this man would want these sugar packets.

Maybe he just liked to keep them, in his pants and jackets.

Or did he want to bake a cake?

Or make some crème brûlée.

Or was he using it on rats...

To test for tooth decay.

I thought and thought about this man.

Until I couldn't stand it.

So finally I decided to confront this sugar bandit.

The next day when the man came in,

[door chime]

His eyes a little red.

I didn't wait for him to speak, I came right out and said,

"Plain coffee right? No milk, no cream."

He nodded. Eyes still swollen.

Then may I ask you what's with all the sugar that you've stolen.

"My wife for fifty years is very sick and cannot eat.

But every day she asks me if I would bring her something sweet."

My eyes welled up with salted guilt.

I swallowed hard with shame.

My quaking voice rose just enough to ask the old man's name

"Grimes". He said.

Then winked his weary eye and gave a tip.

He left the store, with several sugar packets in his grip.

The next day when he didn't come to claim his bitter drink,

[door chime]

I figured he was fine, but missed the comfort of his wink.

The next day when he didn't show,

[door chime]

And the day to follow...

[door chime]

Something deep inside my chest began to feel all hollow.

Fourteen days went by, before I saw it in the Times.

[paper rustling]

Buried in obituaries.

There was Robert Grimes.

Carpenter of fifty years,

loving dad of three,

passed away just two weeks after darling wife Marie.

[door chime]

I know it's kind of strange, to tell a story on this day,

I guess it just embodies what I can't find words to say.