What got me was the kid, and the lesson he was being taught right there in public: that a man’s worth could be measured by how clean his shirt was.
I could’ve turned around. Could’ve said, “I make more than some engineers.” Could’ve explained how quickly his world would fall apart without people like me.
Instead, I picked up a container of fried chicken, added mashed potatoes, and headed to checkout.
I’ve always believed it’s better to let your work speak for itself.
Of course, the man and his son ended up in line right in front of me.
The father stood relaxed, spinning a set of shiny SUV keys on his finger. He never turned around, but the boy… he was different.
He kept glancing back at my hands.
There was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite read. Like he was trying to figure something out.
The father was unloading sparkling water and fancy granola bars onto the belt when his phone rang. He looked irritated before even answering.
“What?” he snapped.
