Look at me. Do I look like a guy who sells suspenders? I am not my job. I am a well read, educated, opinionated seeker of adventure. I had ambitions, but sometimes the breaks don't go your way.
So here I am, the only salesman at Suspend Belief, a boutique that sells only suspenders, standing here waiting for one stinking customer. You know the deal. Guys buy their accessories online in these techno days.
I have a good steady hand and could have been an illustrator, that is, before computers did all the art work. I'm slumped behind my counter when my best customer Ron comes in wearing the kelp green suspenders I chose for him. Why so glum, Joe? I sigh and tell him my life is wasting away. He gave me a stern look. None of us are our jobs, he says. Look at me, a pipe fitter who writes poetry on the side. I've got a reading coming up and need something in orange.
I shrugged and pointed to a pair hanging toward the back. Knock yourself out, Ron.
Every time I put on anything you've suggested it inspires me to compose couplets. That is the impact you've had on my life, Joe.
We hugged. One suspender snapped and smacked him in the head. He stepped away. That is actionable, he stated, but if you give me a lifetime certificate for free suspenders I won't sue.
I gritted my teeth and nodded. Did I have a choice?
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