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I turned and happened to see, out the memory in his mind. I thought I would never
hCiorner 0f my eye, a young college age guy be- forget him.
ind me in line. I didn't recognize him but that "You, too," I repeated, waiting for his re-
d1'dn't mean that he couldn't have gon' e to my
sponse. And he gave it to me in his own, strange
college. He was of a taller build than I and a bit way. He turned from me, squinted his eyes,
opened up a new paper bag, and said, while
~ore muscular. He seemed very athletic, like a seeming to face someone behind me, "Good
d~~~~allplayer - or lacrosse maybe. Maybe he afternoon, man."
t even play sports, but at the very least he The last word was slightly mumbled and
~as probably one of those suave guys who can sounded something more like "ma'am." Iwon-
P .acea whole jug of milk on a conveyor belt dered why he used such a youthful sentence
WIthout'tlppm. g I.t over onto the groceries of the structure, concluding his greeting with "man,"
but I assumed this was his attempt to reach
~foorlady standing in front of him in line. He, across the vast distance separating his age from
1 .anyone, was someone that I could connect my youth and that he wanted to form an inti-
WIth. mate bond that would last forever.
. . As I perceived him, he turned, looked at Ipicked up my groceries and turned to see
hdIiSd Iatem's in tehas b ket, mumbled something, the check-out lady helping some middle aged
lady with her groceries. My aged friend mum-
n about-face, and went back into the fray bled something else to me about what material
would be convenient to carry my groceries in
°1 f the supermarket. And as my items rough- _ a kind gesture, I'm sure, but I'm afraid he had
forgotten that I already had my groceries in a
y rumbled forward and the electric scanner paper bag. It had already become a habit of his
splaosselodver, first, my mi.lk, then, my cereal, I to not face me when he addressed me, and he
again seemed to be looking behind and to the
w Y checked out of his life forever. side of me when he asked me whether Iwould
like paper or plastic. I replied that one paper
checl~l\ndthen I thought it was time for me to bag would be enough for me. My response
11' out of my story. But as I stood there in was met with an abrupt turn of the head and a
ne, I Wondered about my tale. If this was my wrinkling of the eyebrows in my direction.
sdiraIna' then where was the resolution of ten-
",ons, the touching finish, the fitting denoue- Ifelt elated that Ihad found a true friend
l'lalden' t~ If thiIS was my romance, where was my in the midst of what had seemed such an alien-
ating and impersonal world. Mental and spiri-
y, w" here was my boon compamo. n? tual connection really is possible. Without a
further word, I checked out of his life - and
wh b1hanks," I mumbled to the baggage boy,
out of my story. ~
ti °d efore that moment I had not even no-
ficre b I d'1d n't make eye contact with him at
upst1,: Ut I pause d r1o: r a second, lifting my eyes
rnotromf my bag of groceries. He was actually
er trhe 0 a baggage man, for he was much old-
than an a boy and seemed closer to retirement
arch to the begm" nmg 0 f hiIS career. He was th e
e~pal wise, old man.
he real~ave a good day," he said. And I knew
thou hY meant it. "You, too," I offered, and I
it?) t~ t I saw a glint in his eye {or did I imagine
forgetat seemed to tell me that he would never
how I me as the others had done. No matter
ong he lived, he would always hold this