I was sitting in the window at Starbucks at 5:30 in the morning, when a garbage truck pulled up with three of the handsomest black men I’d ever seen. Tall, muscular not to mention well-groomed considering their line of work.
Aside from their good looks, what really got my attention was how happy they were dancing in the street, tossing bags of trash to one another like basketball players, before slam dunking them into the compactor.
It was quite a show, and one that had me smiling, no easy feat at that hour of the morning.
One of them saw me in the window smiling back. Then the other two waved while the driver climbed back into the truck.
They are a famous basketball team from Chicago sired in 1926 that toured the country putting on shows with comedy and fancy footwork, known for their whimsical, silly entertainment.
“You know,” one of them said,”my Uncle Charlie was one a those.”
“Well, Uncle Charlie is in your blood.”
He then threw a huge bag at his co-worker who tossed it back with a big, old grin.
After stopping at the florist to visit Rosie the cat, I found myself grinning, feeling happy all the way home.