No denying effect of this close encounter

I went to a Costa Mesa gas station the other day and the debit

card reader at first denied my card.

I started explaining to an employee -- who said it was his second

day on the job -- that you normally have to wait a few seconds before

punching in the PIN. I hadn’t waited. I said it was my fault. He got

confused. I kept explaining.

Then she spoke.

She held a bottle of water. She had on what I thought were tacky

sunglasses.

She asked, rudely and with a disgusted expression, if she couldn’t

go first and if I couldn’t work out my problem after she left.

I moved and let her go.

She didn’t say thank you, didn’t even smile.

“If it’s denied, it’s denied,” she began.

She continued for what seemed like minutes. She said other

horrible things I so wish I could remember verbatim so I’d at least

have more to write about. But shock took over and I shut down.

Before she walked out, she took one final stab.

Turning around, looking straight at me like she’s been resenting

me for years, she whispered:

“Deniiiiied.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I hate that I couldn’t.

And I felt horrible for most the day. For some reason, I felt too

embarrassed to tell anyone. And I felt too sad to continue not

telling anyone.

So I sat down in my editor’s office and told him how badly I felt.

Then I came back to my desk and told everyone else how badly I

felt.

Then Deepa Bharath, a very wise and well-loved reporter here,

asked me if I’d ever come across people who perform random acts of

kindness.

I said, “Yeah.”

She said, “Yeah.”

I said, “Oooooohhh.”

And by the way, nameless woman, my card wasn’t denied.

* YOUNG CHANG is the features and arts and entertainment writer.

She may be reached at (949) 574-4268 or by e-mail at

young.chang@latimes.com.