The other day I watched The Shawshank Redemption on TV for probably the 4th or 5th time, and it got me thinking about an incident in my past.
Sometime in 1994 I was several months into a layoff and had begun working for a friend in his restaurant that mostly did delivery and carry out, but had a few tables. It had Mexican food, well TexMex, and pizzas, so naturally he called it Guido Burrito. I did delivery for a while, but then one day I was working the kitchen alone, the delivery guy out on a delivery. A guy in his 50s came in looking lost and subdued squinting at the menu on the wall. I asked if I could help him. He said he just got out of prison after 30 years and was hungry but didn’t know what to do. My mind was processing the 30 years and coming up with, yep he killed someone. Meantime I recall suggesting something, I don’t recall what, but probably a burrito. He rather helplessly agreed, paid for it, and later thanked me saying it was very good.
It was much later, possibly after seeing that movie for the first time, I realized this guy had become institutionalized. After 30 years of being told what to eat, he couldn’t order for himself. I had to tell him what to eat.