esrosedotblog

I stopped for gas on the way home from the gym this morning, 500AM.

I always enjoy it. There is the hint of the sunrise. It is way out in the desert, next to the airport, so there is clear view forever.

Today, there was a gang of people there. Usually, not many. Two gardener's trucks kibitzing back and forth. Another guy filling up.

I know the guy in the "office", a store actually. We exchange a few words. We have a game on whether the cash I give him pre-sale will be enough, too much or just right.

Today I gave him 40 dollars "for number four", my usual pump. I had a feeling that this was my lucky day. It was. Exactamundo.

Anyway, while I was watching the scene a guy came with his trash bag and worked his way through the trash barrels. Cans.

I said "hello", he said "hello". I noticed he had gotten quite a few cans and said some dumb thing about their being enough for a coke inside and he laughed. He said he had put three boys through college on his can business. An obvious overstatement but then I mentioned equally dumb things like "every little bit counts" and so on.

I told him that I have three sons. One of his lives in Boston. He has a 2.5 year old grand-daughter.

The whole time, he is working his way through the cans although he was finishing up.

That was it. By play. A few laughs. Not one ounce of embarrassment on his part about the scavenger deal. And not one smirk in my comments really. I decided to take him dead serious after the first couple of words. It is the only way with people.

I totally accept their word. I have discovered this in the alcohol recovery business. Guys all have stories. Many lie about their sobriety, at first. I don't worry about it. I choose to believe it all and when and if it turns out not to be true, I simply adjust their story and move on. I should say that all this trust is purely conversational and relational. I wouldn't loan anyone ten bucks on it. Although in the old days I used to but mentally recorded it as a gift. Then I realized that money to a recovering drunk is pure enabling.

Back to this guy. The gas guy. Not a drunk. Not even eccentric.

I got in the car and said good bye and then I realized that he was getting into HIS car!.

A relatively new and shiny Acura. No shit. No kidding. I laughed all the way home.

He had put the bag of cans in the trunk.

Labels: life