An Informal Meeting Of The Minds

"Wonder what they got good to eat in here?" he said to no one in particular with his beady eyes and unkempt hair hanging from his baseball cap.

If you're like me and you frequent convenience stores, then you know it's not unlikely to see a person of this stature. You also know it's not unlikely for them to announce such proclamations the second they walk through the door. I watched him meander aimlessly down each of the aisles and I felt obligated to tell him, though apparently not enough to actually do so through voice, that MY daily D.O.C. is the 44 oz. "The Big Chill" cup filled to the rim with a fountain Diet Coke. I was wondering if he'd pick up on the "vibe" and follow my lead, but alas it became painfully obvious that telepathy wasn't his bag as he continued his journey past the fountain machines with not even as much as a second glance.

It was then that I realized that this was a person with whom I would have absolutely nothing in common.