Still, I Was Embarrassed

At work yesterday, I was talking about today - Thanksgiving - to the new girl on the block.

Bex. She is the new assistant manager. Been around a couple of months. 24 years old. A good future ahead of her.

Just me and her in a quiet box office. Nobody buys fucking tickets on the day before Thanksgiving. Thank god. I did not have to deal with fucking customers, the bane of my existence (even as they are the lifeblood of the business - seems I'm always at odds with whatever form of commerce I am forced to support).

I was talking about how much I looked forward to seeing my sons. Tears trickled down my cheek, I got choked up a bit, had to compose myself before going on.

Thankfully she is an artsy liberal, drenched in empathy - she did not bash me in the face with a baseball bat.

Still, I was embarrassed.

Until I got home and thought about it.

I am proud of the intensity of my love for my sons, even after 39 and 42 years.