I stop, knowing a body next to his might get his attention, and he turns his head up, we both smile widely and say "hey man." I open the door and report for work, he continues painting the front of the restaurant. After I settle in behind the counter, he walks in, comes toward the counter, not sure who to address (my co-worker who does the deliveries works right beside me) as he asks for some money "for the truck." I giggle like a, well, no, I giggle like me, a real butch giggle, of course. I reach in the cash register and pull out 50 cents, place it in his hand as our eyes meet, my heart melts, he says thanks, and goes back to the outside of the restaurant, his baggy jeans slowly walking away from me, filling my imagination.