It’s Christmas Eve. I’m standing on the corner across from Whole Foods deciding if I have the tolerance to go in or not, knowing, it will be crawling with cooks and guests of theirs bringing dessert.
I think, perhaps my modest needs can wait.
Already missing three green lights, a construction worker, the type you could see running out of a burning building with a kid under each arm, has been standing near me eating a variety of edibles. A big guy in coveralls with a hardhat strapped to his waist, it’s as if he has an endless buffet set up in those massive, industrial pockets. After a sandwich, some type of cheese and an apple that crunches like an axe, he pulls out a lavish pastry.
I guess I’m staring because he stops, displaying dimples that I can swear, wink, and says, “Wanna split it?”
I’m rarely at a loss for words nor surprised at anything that I encounter, but he had me, as I burst out laughing and say, “It’s okay. You’re obviously very hungry.”
And he says, “Nah, it’s just a snack.” 🙂