.133 day 116

i pulled into a hess station to vacuum out my jeep and was greeted by a meat selling, older man threatening to let me "put him to work". i protested the threat, he complied to it. and as he vacuumed out my vehicle, i learned a teeny bit more about this sporadic generous gentleman who keeps a quarter in his ear to remind himself that he's worth something.

his mother named him terrol and has never told him why. he finds his name peculiar and likes that he doesn't know the meaning. when asked of such, he simply replies "it means me". he, the cancer, who spends his free time listening to oldies in foggy bars that ignore the "no smoking indoors" law. with juke boxes old enough to house his 'jams' and stale pretzels in wooden bowls, along the bar. he only smokes cigarettes (winston salems) when he drinks, and he only drinks when a smelling-good, pretty woman is sitting next to him (only sad men drink alone, he says). his ex-wife is an aquarius and has made him an advocate of the sign. he raved of their greatness, and basic 'good peoples' pedigree. we share similar sentiments, i say. then, that makes you good people, he smiled. and it was nice, that smile he smiled. warming and painful all at once. human, even. he told me that, because of me, in this moment, selling meat ain't so bad at all. i told him that, because of him, in this moment, life itself, felt even better than that.