Dear Mystery Employee at the Bank of NH Pavilion,

I know what you did for me on Sunday night at the Miranda Lambert concert might have seemed like no big deal, but it meant a great deal to me.

I treated myself to a big ole slice of pepperoni pizza. You rang me up as we small talked about how the nights are getting cooler. I told you since Summer is winding down I didn't care about my beach body anymore, hence the pizza. You laughed and told me to have a good night.

I began walking around with my slice in hand. I was chatting with listeners in between unladylike bites of 'za. I spotted my friend Kim I hadn't seen in a while so I ran towards her to give her a sweet embrace. In all of the excitement, my slice of pizza went flying off of my paper plate and hit Kim right on jeans before landing on the pavement CHEESE DOWN. We both stared at the slice and I apologized for grease-ifying her jeans and she apologized for making me drop the pizza which was my own damn clumsiness.

My heart sank because the pizza was so good and I had only taken a few bites before this casualty. I mustered up the courage to go back to your pizza stand and share the sad tale of my fallen slice. I sheepishly told you what happened, holding up my gravel-covered slice. You smiled and said something along the lines of "it happens to the best of us" and turned to get me another slice.

I would have totally understood if you decided to charge me for my new slice. But out of the kindness of your heart, you gave it to me free of charge. I know you had a long night of serving pizza and pouring beer and I just want you to know that your kindness didn't go unnoticed.

Your Carb Loving Pal,

Kira Lew

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