More love

I'm emerging from the walmart bathroom - the only thing I do in walmart - and a young man swiftly approaches me, his hand stiffly extended, head shaved, as he declares his intention to shake my hand.

I really don't know if he is seriously congratulating me or mocking me. I keep my phone in my right hand and grasp his with my left. I first thought he was short and chubby but I realize up close he is short and solid, he must work out.

He is nervous as if he doesn't normally talk to strangers, wide dark eyes glued to mine, but determined to get out what he wants to say. And he has plenty to say.

About every single one of my messages and his inability to find the words to express how much he agrees with everything, how much it meant to him to see my truck parked here, how much he wants me to stay in this town until everyone has painted their vehicles with the same messages.

He tells me his dad is from El Centro CA and I think maybe he's Chicano and he's never been to California, only as far south as Virginia and as far west as Illinois but one day, he's so wistful I assure him heartily he's gonna make, his deepest longing is to live in California.

He says he really doesn't have time to talk, he's on an errand for work, but he had to risk finding me and expressing his thoughts and appreciation.

We shake properly this time, and smile sincerely, tinged with sadness.