I glance to the right and see a beat-up old front-end loader moving up along side me. A cheerful old man sits hunched over the big steering wheel. He waves and smiles. He looks to be at least in late 80s or early 90s.
I briefly wonder what such an old dude is doing in a front-end loader at 6:15 in the morning.
“Where ya goin’ this early in the morning, dollface?” he shouts in a thin, reedy voice.
“Work,” I yell back.
I keep walking. He keeps pace with me.
“Swell day,” he says.
“Sure is,” I answer.
“You hitched up or anything?” he asks.
“Yup, “I lie.
“Ah well shucks,” he says. And then after a pause, “I’m a widower twice over,” he adds proudly.
“That’s too bad,” I sympathize.
I keep walking. He keeps chugging alongside me in his frontend loader.
“Ya, they couldn’t keep up with me!” he shouts and gives a wheezy laugh. “Well, I gotta get a wiggle on.” he says giving a little salute and a little wiggle. See ya next time!” he adds and steps on the gas, roaring ever so slowly off into the horizon.
I went to work feeling like a Hotsie Totsie.