Standing by the door looking out at the boardwalk today and a little cowboy with his big ol cowboy hat was looking back at me. Cute little booger. I shared with he and his dad about my boys, how they had hats like that when they were about his age, deep in the heart of Texas.
I ask little man where's he's from.
You'll never guess.
Texas.
His dad and I exchange Texas stories, where I'm from, where they're from.
"Fairfield ... Did you happen to know anyone named Manahan?"
"Yes, yes, I did. Fine, fine family."
Little man's daddy rodeoed with the Manahans.
I ask him which event.
Bull riding.
"Of course you did."
He smiles.
Big.
And this is why I love my job.
Stories almost every day.
I can't even get to six degrees of separation most days. One, two, or three max.
I'm living my dream, meeting new and interesting people.
It's a good life.
Even when I'm tired it's a good life.
Write a comment