Khakis and a Polo

“Look at that guy.” “Which guy?” “The one with the khakis and polo on.” “Poor bastard.” “Looks lucky to me.” “What's so lucky about having to wear khakis and a polo five days a week?” “Air conditioning, he's clean, he isn't sweating.” “They used to call that a eunuch.” “Whatever, I'd trade. I've been swinging a hammer for too long.” “I just started, I'll take the open sky and the hammer; but I get it.”

He cut the conversation short and tried to light a cigarette. It wasn't happening. He tried again then put the lighter away and just let the cigarette hang from his lips.

“Let me see that lighter.” “Your pen quit writing again?” “Hand me the lighter.”

He passed the lighter to his right and almost immediately he had a flame in front of him, close enough that he didn't have to move to finally light his cigarette.

“Thanks.” “Still want the hammer over the khakis?” “There was this hike in Montana, 20 or 22 miles, give or take. I decided to give it a go on July 5^th, there was still snow on the ground up there; The High Line.” “What does this have to do with hammers and khakis?” “Just listen, it'll all come together. About 12 miles into that hike, I hadn't seen a soul all day, It was getting late, cold. There was a big grizzly about 200 yards back. I was upwind, he was sniffing the air. He looked right at me.” “Hammers? Khakis?” “You got somewhere to be?” “A nursing home when you're done with this story.” “This grizzly, he looked right at me, and he started moving a little faster.” “Polo shirts?” “Here's the thing, I felt alive. This ache in my body, my hands, I feel alive. I never felt alive working inside all day wearing loafers, khakis, and a polo.” “You're a masochist.” “It's a give and take.” “What?” “Never mind. I'd rather be chased by a bear across the Continental Divide every day than put on those khakis and sell shit to keep people away from conversation, or just stillness, ever again.” “What happened with the bear?” “Fuck off, I'll tell you in the nursing home.”

He did get it. There wasn't anything wrong with being that guy, it was just wrong for him. He liked being still these days. That ache was gone, but he wanted the sky, and he never wanted to worry about what soles his shoes had or where his name tag was, ever again.

“What you gonna do tonight?” “Mow the yard. Kiss my girl. Play UNO with the kids” “You haven't had enough sun today?” “I've had enough sun, just not enough sky. What about you?” “I'm going to hold my baby boy for awhile and read Winnie the Pooh to my little girl.” “Now that's lucky.” “I might put a pair of khakis on too.” “No softball game tonight?” “I've had enough sun and sky.”

He pushed the turn signal down and turned left into the parking lot. “What's the mileage?” “145, 376” “See you bright and early.” “See you tomorrow.”