Once you get to know me you realize there just isn’t a lot there. It’s not that I’m shallow — it’s just that I’m a three trick pony. Hang around me for any length of time and you’ll get the idea. You’ll start to notice that you heard me tell this joke before, were struck by that witty comment sometime last month, saw the same nervous tick last week when I got upset about the state of baseball in America. And that’s when it hits you. I’m boring. Nice, but really boring. Oh, I don’t blame you. You think it’s bad for you, imagine being me. I’ve been living with myself for nearly thirty years now. It’s no walk in the park.

I pushed the door open with both hands and sauntered to the soda counter. Sitting on an old high stool I gazed around and took in the shelves that ran floor to ceiling. The smell of mildew stung the air and I felt as if I were trespassing time itself.