I left for Starbucks that morning to begin the trek across the state against a strong wind and a very cool 52 degrees. It really was miserable being blown all over the road not to mention the heavy traffic. I was nervous about the echocardiogram that was awaiting me also. I made it there successfully without having to yell or flip off too many drivers. The tests went well and I got a clean bill of health regarding the ol' ticker. I was looking forward to my next stop as I left the doctor's office. The sun was warming the air and the ride was beautiful as I dodged the cars avoiding castastrophy. I pulled into the Chilis in Valrica, about 10 miles out of town. As I got off my bike, I noticed that my backpack was no longer on the bike. It was gone. Dread set in. I was so bummed I almost didn't go in to get lunch. After two years of carrying my laptop with me almost daily, I made the mistake of not securing it before I left. Stupid, stupid mistake. I went in anyway and as I entered the hostess yells over to the girl attending the bar and told her to get the veteran's menu out. No questions, or anything, maybe just because it was getting close to their busy lunchtime influx of people. I asked for Margaritas and chips with salsa and sat there depressed. It's a material thing, but beyond just monetary value as some of you MBP owners can attest. It's my personalized baby with Harley Davidson diamondplate skin on it that matches Mimi, my softail. The barmaid gave me the veteran's menu and I ordered chicken tacos with black beans and rice. It was absolutely delishious. A Green Beret and an Air Force Veteran came in and spoke with me a while. God Bless them for their service. Sitting there nibbling on chips with salsa my phone rang. It was 813 area code. I almost didn't answer it because the number was unknown. I answered anyway. The gentleman on the other end asked if I had lost a...before he could finish, I said a bookbag? A black backpack? Yes! It is mine, I am Richard. He said a young lady named Nisa had found it and had asked him to call me as she was on her lunch break and had to get back to work. He gave me her phone number and I thanked him. I called Nisa and was just so happy that she had it. She gave me the address of the high-rise where she worked. It was the law firm of Greenberg, Traurig, et. al in downtown Tampa. Ironically, my mom worked at their Miami office on Brickell Ave until she retired. I told her it would take a while for me to ride back and find and she said no problem. I still had another margarita coming and the waitress brought it even though I was ready to leave. I opened mapquest on my phone to try and figure where she was located. I was still worried where would I park? What if I can't find it? Two black Veterans were sitting next to me and overheard my conversation and gave me detailed directions. It turns out both were limo drivers and knew Tampa like the back of their hands. They assured me I would find it and instilled some confidence in me. I finished my drink and anxiously headed back into that nightmare of 6, 8, and 10 lanes of congested traffic hell. I rode as close to the directions as I could remember them telling me and low and behold, there was Greenberg Traurig right on the corner. An empty parking space perfect for the bike was directly in front of the high-rise. It's hard to explain the feeling I had when things just continually fell into place for me one after another,
I entered the building and was digging for Nisa's phone number when I noticed a receptionist in the lobby. I asked for Nisa and she called her for me. I told her I made it and was there. In less than a minute a beautiful, voluptous, lady came down carrying my backpack. I was overjoyed. She told me she had to dig through my papers finding my Navy discharge papers for my name. She then found papers from my doctor's office and called them for my phone number. It's a miracle that she got through to that office at all. After giving her a huge hug, thanking her over and over, I went for my wallet and attempted to give her some cash. She vehemently refused and somehow seemed happy to do this for me. I am so grateful for her. Even one of Vets said there are some good people in the world and that we only usually hear about the bad ones. He was so right. I want to send her flowers and will.
Guardian Angels were watching over me this Veteran's Day and refused to allow any misfortune to come my way. Sometimes things happen for a reason. God Bless those who gave all. I could feel them watching out for me yesterday. Bless them everyday. We are free to ride our motorcycles and drink margaritas and eat free food and live our lives in freedom because of them.
