It’s Tuesday night and already it has been a long week. Office life is a bit treacherous just now but dinner still needs to get on the table and it is clear to me that cooking will not happen. Oh well, the girl has been clamoring for Chipotle so I decide to stop and be the hero to at least one person today.

I get the car parked and make my way to the restaurant. There are two high school aged boys propping the door open. They are the end of the line. I consider how long I will be waiting just to order some burritos and decide that in the time it would take to get back in my car and go somewhere else, I could just wait and be done with it.

When I get in line I notice that the line is dense. It is not the usual line that is dispersed in pockets of twos and threes indicating different groups of family and friends, this line is packed solid with high school aged boys. In a mix and match blend of uniforms – the pungent and unmistakable scent of post-workout adolescent boy funk hangs in the air. This is going to take a while. I look at one of their T-shirts and wonder if it is a wrestling team before turning my attention to the email on my iPhone. Did I miss anything critical at the office today?

I’ve been perusing messages for a minute or two when an adult grabs my attention: “Would you like to come and order?” he asks. Coach leads me down the parade of boys with an occasional, “Hey guys, let’s let some of the other customers order ahead of us.” When he gets me to the front of the line, he warns the boy next to me to behave or I might just hurt him. I joke to the boy that it’s not me, but my five year old daughter he should be afraid of. It’s here that I finally see by their uniforms that they are Campolindo Cougars and learn they are a football team – a 10-0 football team.

I place my order, get my food and head back to thank the coach for letting me pass. I realize as I’m walking out the door that none of the boys grumbled when I went ahead, and for a solid mass of what had to be 50 testosterone filled youth, they were surprisingly quiet and very respectful of me and of the space. It’s a small thing really, making young men aware of the people around them. But I believe that it is these small acts of kindness that make us all better people.