Pleasant Surprise

Mary Frances and I were in Philly hanging out and helping Marina run errands. The only place around that would fax her rez was out on the Avenue at a check cashing place. Yikes. Not the best part of our tiny little hamlet. One might think, well, at least it's daylight, but that doesn't necessarily mean much in our neighbourhood. Anyway, while awaiting the fax's confirmation, we stood in the lobby admiring the posters featuring boxers of the past (random, right?) and glancing at the mug shots of those who had written bad checks and hoping that we did not recognize family members (Cousin Amanda, is that you?) In walked a young man who went over to the window next to ours. During the course of his interaction, we overheard him say that he's not used to being out this early in the morning. The gal who was waiting on him said, with a bit of hostility, "Early? Morning? It's 1 o'clock in the afternoon!" He then said what is one of the saddest sentences I've ever heard, "I work shift work down at the plant." (There is just something so damn depressing about someone working at the chemical plant.) He went on to explain that he goes in at 5pm and finishes up at 5am. Marina and I mirrored each other's expression of empathy for this fella as the broad behind the counter said, "Well you have no life." Our expressions immediately changed to that of shock. I mean, who is she to speak to him this way? And hello??, he's a customer. He politely answered, "My life is back at home. My life is my kid and my girl. So long as I got that, I don't need nothin' else." As he headed out the door I made sure to tell him that his comment was the sweetest thing we'd ever heard.