15 minutes of fame

Yesterday I was coming down with the blues.

Walking around the city at night made me feel a bit better.

I don’t know. I guess you have to feel out every emotion in life, right?

And today, it took me a while to stop running back to my bed in the morning.

I made myself run 3 miles. I’m getting my miles down to 6:30.

I felt great after a while.

And then the cable guy came and we had an explosive conversation.

Not even on my behalf. I was trying to play the annoyed millennial, who was on her phone while the cable guy did his job, but he wasn’t having that.

Instead, he started telling me about all of the strange people he’d installed cables for in the past.

“A lot of desperate housewives, hoarders, strippers, gay guys in zebra thongs and even more desperate housewives.”

I sat on my sofa as he continued to pour out his heart to me.

Next came the story about the Dominican girl who tried to get him for his money. He had a teary look in his eye when he questioned why she would do that to someone.

I didn’t know what to say.

I’ve kind of accepted that people open up to me about their lives so I just continued to listen, after all, this was about my television being setting up properly.

What was supposed to be a 30 minute installation took over 2.5 hours.

I rushed to the lower east side as soon as he left to meet with someone who had been waiting for me.

I couldn’t get over all of the comical stories and remarks the cable guy made. I’d even mentioned them at the dinner I was at.

On my way home the sadness began to creep back in.

I guess I’ll never be able to get away from the winter blues.

There was one thing that kind of stood out to me about the cable guy, who’s name was Dave.

Before he left, he told me I looked a lot younger than my age but that I had a real old soul and the world needed more people like that.

I laughed and told him I probably wouldn’t make any of his interesting client stories and he said he’d put me in his next one.

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