David sat in the corner booth of a small diner, the familiar scent of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. It was a place he had frequented for years, a sanctuary where he could escape the chaos of his mind. But today, the words on the menu swam before his eyes, a jumbled mess that mocked him. He blinked hard, trying to focus, but the letters danced in and out of clarity, a cruel reminder of the traumatic brain injury he had sustained during his service in the army.
He rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to center himself. The low hum of conversation around him faded into the background as he struggled to make sense of the menu. It wasn’t just the injury that had changed him; it was the aftermath—the confusion, the exhaustion, the feeling that his mind was no longer his own. He had always prided himself on his strength, but lately, even the simplest tasks felt monumental.
Just then, Laura, a young waitress with an impatient demeanor, approached his table. Her eyes flicked over him, and without preamble, she asked, “Are you drunk?” The question caught him off guard, and for a moment, he was speechless.
“No, I’m not drunk,” he managed to say, his voice steadying. “I don’t drink, ma’am. I suffered a traumatic brain injury. I’m an army veteran.”
Laura’s expression didn’t change. “Okay, well, do you know what you want?” she asked, her tone dripping with impatience.
David felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. “It’s taking me a while to understand what the words are on the menu,” he replied quietly, hoping for a hint of understanding.
“Wasting my time,” she said flatly, crossing her arms. “You need to walk away.”
His heart sank. It wasn’t just about the meal; it was about dignity. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the frustration bubble inside him. “I’m trying, please,” he whispered, but Laura’s eyes were cold, her resolve unyielding.
Just then, the door swung open, and Caitlyn Clark walked in. Dressed casually in a hoodie and sweatpants, her presence was magnetic. Heads turned as she made her way to the counter, her confidence radiating through the diner. She noticed the tension between David and Laura immediately.
“Excuse me,” Caitlyn said, stepping forward and placing herself between them. “What’s your problem?” she asked Laura, her voice firm.
“I don’t care who you think you are,” Laura shot back defensively.
Caitlyn’s gaze was unwavering. “You’re being unprofessional. This man deserves respect, not to be treated like that.”
David’s heart raced. He hadn’t expected anyone, let alone someone as high-profile as Caitlyn, to stand up for him. The feeling of being unseen began to lift, replaced by a flicker of hope.
“Let your manager handle it,” Caitlyn added, her voice cool and collected. The air was thick with tension, and for a moment, no one spoke.
Caitlyn’s eyes never left Laura. “You think it’s just about serving a plate of food? Let me tell you something. This man,” she gestured toward David, “has given more than you could ever imagine. He put his life on the line for this country. His service is the reason you can stand here and talk to him like that.”
Laura’s face paled, and she opened her mouth to protest, but Caitlyn continued. “You may not see it, but you owe him your respect. Every veteran does. They come back home with scars, physical and emotional. They don’t ask for your pity, but they damn sure deserve your respect.”
David sat there, overwhelmed by Caitlyn’s words. For the first time in a long time, he felt seen. Caitlyn stepped closer to the counter, her voice rising with every word. “I’m not asking you to be perfect, but I’m demanding that you treat every veteran who walks through these doors like the hero they are. If you can’t do that, then you shouldn’t be serving anyone.”
Laura stood there, speechless, her face flushed with the weight of Caitlyn’s words. Caitlyn turned to David, her expression softening. “You deserve better than this,” she said quietly, as if it were a promise.
“Thank you,” David replied, his voice carrying a depth of emotion he hadn’t expected to feel. Caitlyn nodded, a small smile on her face, before walking toward the door, leaving behind a lingering sense of resolve.
As David sat back in his booth, he felt a mix of gratitude and disbelief. Caitlyn’s words had shattered the silence that had enveloped him for so long. He looked down at the menu again. The words were still jumbled, but the pressure in his chest had eased. He didn’t have to rush; he could take his time.
The manager, Tom, approached him, his face showing a mix of embarrassment and resolve. “I want to apologize for what happened earlier,” he said sincerely. “That was uncalled for.”
David met Tom’s eyes, feeling a sense of understanding. “It’s all right,” he replied. “I just need to be treated like everyone else.”
Tom nodded, visibly moved. “You deserve that.”
As David looked around the diner, he noticed the customers no longer glancing over or whispering. Caitlyn’s words had rippled through the room, reminding everyone of the respect every person, especially those who had served, deserved.
Days turned into weeks, and David found himself speaking out about his experiences, not out of anger but out of necessity. He began to reclaim his dignity, sharing his struggles with others.
Months later, he stood on a stage at a local event honoring veterans. As he spoke, he felt a sense of purpose. “I had an encounter that changed everything,” he said, his voice steady. “A simple act of kindness from someone I didn’t even know. She saw me, and that was the moment I realized I’m not invisible.”
The crowd sat in stunned silence, and David knew he had found his voice again. Caitlyn’s act of standing up for him had changed the course of his life, and he would never let it be taken away.
Columnist’s awkward exchange with Caitlin Clark gets creepier as second comment surfaces
Indianapolis Star columnist Gregg Doyel referred to Clark as ‘that’ and ‘it’ while talking to Indiana Fever head coach
Indianapolis Star columnist Gregg Doyel had a second awkward moment during Caitlin Clark’s introductory press conference Wednesday.
Doyel, who was already under fire for a creepy interaction with Clark while asking the No. 1 pick of the Indiana Fever a question, referred to her as “that” and “it” in a new video that surfaced while he was talking to Fever coach Christie Sides.
“You were just given the keys to that,” Doyel told Sides, referencing Clark.
The Indiana Fever’s Caitlin Clark talks to reporters Wednesday, April 17, 2024, in Indianapolis. (AP Photo/Darron Cummings)
“What are you going to do with it?”
It’s an odd way to phrase a question about Clark, and it comes after Doyel’s previous interaction with Clark at a press conference.
Doyel got on the bad side of fans Wednesday after he formed a heart symbol with his hands for Clark to open his questioning.
Clark asked Doyel whether he liked that, and he responded, “I like that you’re here.” Then, after Clark explained she makes that gesture to her family after every game with the Iowa Hawkeyes, Doyel’s awkward response got worse.
“Start doing it to me, and we’ll get along,” he said.
Clark responded with an uncomfortable smile before he asked his question.
The Indiana Fever’s Caitlin Clark reacts during an interview during the WNBA draft Monday, April 15, 2024, in New York. (AP Photo/Adam Hunger)
The social media reaction was visceral.
“I would totally understand if the Fever revoked Gregg Doyel’s credentials for this creepy back and forth with Caitlin,” CBS Sports host Chris Williamson said.
Barstool Sports President Dave Portnoy called Doyel a “pervert,” while Ayssa Bergamini of 690 The Score called him a “creep.” ESPN’s Clinton Yates added, “This is obviously inappropriate, unprofessional and just plain gross.”
“I don’t know Gregg Doyel personally. But I’ve followed him on here for years. He’s the *star columnist* for IndyStar, a pulitzer-prize winning pub that helped bring down Larry Nassar,” columnist Lindsay Gibbs wrote. “And he thought it was OK to ask that, and then wasn’t ashamed, he went on tweeting afterwards!”
Doyel apologized for his remarks, and wrote a column with the headline, “Caitlin Clark, I’m so sorry. On Wednesday I was part of the problem.”
The Indiana Fever’s Caitlin Clark speaks during a news conference Wednesday, April 17, 2024, in Indianapolis. (AP Photo/Darron Cummings)
“Today in my uniquely oafish way, while welcoming @CaitlinClark22 to Indy, I formed my hands into her signature (hand heart emoji),” he wrote on X. “My comment afterward was clumsy and awkward. I sincerely apologize. Please know my heart (literally and figuratively) was well-intentioned. I will do better.”
