I don’t work for a home improvement store. This evening, for a few minutes, I did though. After getting electrical boxes, I wandered the store. A man was eyeing the work tables. Because I’d done the same thing before, I said, “You’re thinking about using that as a kitchen table, aren’t you?” He looked at me, surprised. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m thinking. But I don’t have a truck to haul it.”
“This store rents a flatbed truck with raised sides fairly cheaply. They’ll help you load it. Buy it before you change your mind. I made that mistake.”
He didn’t take it wrong. In fact, his eyes lit up. “Sold!” he said. “My wife is going to love this. She loves this sort of industrial look. I’ll get it as her birthday present.”
I smiled, imagining him showing up at his house with a work table for the kitchen. And imagined a wife who’d love to receive that kind of gift. He already won the game, though he might not realize it.
I walked out of the store and stood in the parking lot, watching the advancing rain come toward me. When I got back to the apartment, I changed clothes. As the rain thundered in, I stood outside and let it baptize me in the way that only a good rain can. It was a chilly rain but it didn’t seem to lessen my enthusiasm.