I was at the barber one day in Utah when it came up that I had lived in New York City.
The young lady cutting my hair gasped, “Wow! I’ve always wanted to visit! It has seriously been a life-long dream of mine. I wish I could go…”
Then her face fell, “but I can’t.”
A bit confused, I asked why.
“Oh, I couldn’t go. I mean, I have to work,” she said.
“They don’t give you time off?”
“They do, but I have never been somewhere nice. I couldn’t afford it.”
“Do you have cable?” I asked.
“Yes…?” she responded, wondering where I was going.
“Cancel it, save the money and you can go in three months. You can even stay at my friend’s place to make it cheaper for you,” I offered.
“Oh, I can’t do that.”
“Then watching TV is a bigger dream than going to NYC?”
“No, but I mean, I can’t just leave and go to New York. I mean what if I get mugged there? I have to stay here and work. I have to.”
The conversation ended with me leaving her a tip to start her NYC fund.
I kept in touch with her.
She never went.
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