A thin line.

“Good morning, America!”

He says this to me every morning, usually as I’m passing him on my way out the door, while he unloads the power tools I’m trying to escape.

“Good morning, Evidio.”

“All this noise I’m making. I’m going to have to take you out to dinner to repay you.” He raises both hands in surrender, beaming. “I have no choice! I must take you out!”

He’s a smooth operator. Always smiling, always cracking jokes. When he and his crew have to work at my place, I make coffee and breakfast, and it’s been nice getting to know him over the years. He was very supportive during the strike, even though it meant less work for him, too. He started working on a project just at the same time my job ended, so we’ve been seeing more of each other lately than usual. Continue reading