Karma–Listen to It

I love karma–the idea of it, the hopefulness of it, the reality of it.

Today’s karma:

Several very nice incomplete parties came in–deuces. I was able to connect them when the other parties arrived, almost within seconds. Without hesitation, I actually knew before they spoke to me what their names were and who they were meeting. Thanks to karma, I was, once again, maitre ‘d extraordinaire.

I take a bus most every morning to catch the subway. One other woman waits at the stop with me. We don’t talk much, although she once asked me what my IPod was. I explained my daughter bought it, downloaded all my favorite music on it, and now I can’t live without it. She exclaimed that she might just have her own kids get her one. I only found out today, however, that she is actually getting off work as a group home aide just as I am heading to my job at the restaurant. I was kind of astounded, although I don’t really know why. Then I saw her again tonight–a first–as I walked home from the subway. She was walking, too, instead of taking the bus. But she was a block over, going to work, traversing the alley to my right as we made our ways down our opposite paths.

I told my daughter she would hear from the college she was hoping to transfer to today. Monday she called, begging me to skip my walk home and check the mail early for her. I missed my bus and couldn’t get home right away. No reply anyway. Tuesday, she begged Mr. Restaurant Gal to stay home and check the mail and call her as soon as it came. “But I have a feeling you won’t hear until Wednesday,” I told her. Again, I was right, no news. Then today–Wednesday–I felt compelled to take the subway home the minute I got off work–no shopping, no errands, no nothing. I practically skipped the four-and-a-half blocks down the hill from the subway stop. As I unlocked the front door, I pushed back what felt like a ton of mail. I stepped on a thick envelope lying upside down. I raised my foot and peeked. “Congratulations!” read the pre-printed message. I wanted to cry. My daughter did when I told her the good news.

One of my absolute favorite floor managers (he better be promoted soon), shared some thoughts about his very cool long-time girlfriend–future engagement and such. I have been telling him for months, “Ring and a date, pal. You’re a lucky man to have her, and you’ll have beautiful kids!” Wouldn’t you know, in walks his girlfriend today, unexpectedly, right after I told him this for the hundredth time. “Should I take this as a sign?” he asked. “Are you kidding?” I responded.

Because I knew the deuces’ names before they knew I needed to know them; I walked home along a parallel universe with my morning bus-stop regular; and my kid got into her first-choice college on the very day I knew she would. Buy the ring and marry the girl!

Karma, don’t mess with it.