Two Vignettes for Your Reading Pleasure

We followed a beat-up white panel truck with no license plates down the street that winds through the forest of apartment buildings along the Milwaukee River. When the street expanded to two lanes, we pulled up next to the truck and right away heard the driver talking to us. “One day I’ll make a lot of money, and I’ll buy a car like yours.” He was a young, good-looking guy, smoking a blunt. He went on to say more about how he admired our car (a 2017 Audi sedan) and then announced, “I’m a plumber.” We almost invited him home with us because the day before our water heater had died but we already had a plumber coming. Still, it’s not every day that you meet a plumber who likes your car.

The cashier at Walgreen’s asked if me if my day was going like I’d planned. I said, “yes, pretty much,” and then added that it was my birthday. “So what great thing are you doing on your birthday?” he asked. I told him I was cleaning my back porch. “Ah,” he said. “Is that your place of peace?” Later in the car, I saw that in addition to the Advil and lotion I’d bought, there was a small box of fake nails in the bag. I’d seen the box on the counter, left by someone else, but in my delight in contemplating the porch as my place of peace I’d not noticed I’d bought them. The next day I took them back for a refund. The same cashier wasn’t there and I was glad because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

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Photo by MacDonald Almeida on Unsplash