![\"Katie](\"https:\/\/www.tomgrimshaw.com\/tomsblog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/Katie-The_Beer_Angel.jpg\")
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Ten years ago, I had this tiny old man who came through the liquor store drive-thru every other day. He wouldn\u2019t even look at me\u2014just handed over his money and said he wanted a six-pack of Natty. I spent so much time at the store, and all the regulars were like family to me. But not him. He was just\u2026 Pete.
\nIt drove me nuts that he never acted like he knew me.<\/p>\n
After about a year, I started telling him jokes from another regular. He didn\u2019t say yes or no, just listened to me absolutely butcher the punchlines. I told him all I wanted in life was to catch him smiling as he drove away. He mostly shook his head and asked if I\u2019d stop holding his beer hostage. I told him someday, *someday*, he\u2019d stop hating me.<\/p>\n
We played this game for two more years. Then, one day, after I lovingly slid his beer into his lap, he threw something at me. It was a shirt that said *BEER ANGEL.* My life was made.<\/p>\n
After that, Pete started warming up to me. He\u2019d bring little gifts\u2014a figurine of a cow lifting weights, a candle he found near his trash can, and one time, a Playboy because \u201che liked the girl\u2019s earrings.\u201d His cackling when I saw it is something I\u2019ll never forget.<\/p>\n
Six years into our drive-thru friendship, Pete asked if I could run an errand for him. He handed me his debit card and a grocery list, telling me I could spend $20 on myself. I was over the moon. Then he asked if I could cut his hair. He was on oxygen and didn\u2019t think he could make it to the barber anymore. I told him I\u2019d drag him into the shop on a blanket if I had to, but when he declined, I promised to stop by after work.<\/p>\n
He greeted my 3-year-old daughter, Violet, and me with chocolates filled with liquor. He laughed harder than anyone I\u2019ve ever known. Over the next few years, I visited him regularly, cutting his hair, chatting while he did crosswords, and bringing him lottery tickets.<\/p>\n
Pete was funny without trying and hilariously awful in the best way. One day, I mentioned something my dad had said and referred to myself as “Kate.” He looked at me and said, \u201cIs your name Kate? I just thought it was \u2018butthole.\u2019\u201d I laughed and told him my family calls me Kate, and it makes me feel loved.<\/p>\n
A few visits later, he handed me a check, and when I got to the car, I saw it was made out to \u201cKate.\u201d I cried.<\/p>\n
The last time I saw him, he called me \u201csweetheart\u201d as I left. I looked back at him\u2014so tiny and frail\u2014and said, \u201cI prefer \u2018butthole.\u2019\u201d He laughed, and I left smiling.<\/p>\n
A couple of weeks later, I drove to Dexter for his funeral. There were only a few people there, and I stood off to the side, crying. After the service, they all came up to me and said, \u201cYou must be Kate! He talked about you all the time!\u201d<\/p>\n
It\u2019s been a year since Pete passed, but Violet and I talk about him often. I sure miss him.<\/p>\n
Please, be kind to people. Obnoxiously, annoyingly, insanely kind. You never know how much it might mean.<\/p>\n
Credit: Katie Sawyer<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ten years ago, I had this tiny old man who came through the liquor store drive-thru every other day. He wouldn\u2019t even look at me\u2014just handed over his money and said he wanted a six-pack of Natty. I spent so much time at the store, and all the regulars were like family to me. But … <\/p>\n