On the Right Track

I popped in to the dry cleaner on my way to the gym this morning. A car pulled up next to me at almost the exact same time. A gentleman hopped out and got to the door just before I did. The girl knew who he was and pulled up his account. He laid out a pile of shirts. He said "Heavy starch, folded, and I'll pay for them now". She said "Wednesday OK?". He nodded and left.

What struck me, beyond the obvious fact that he has all of his shirts laundered, was his look. He was at least 60 years old, lean, average height. I noticed that he was wearing the exact same pair of Bill's Khakis jeans that I had on. They were even cuffed like mine. He had on dark leather boots, a squared off leather jacket, a tweed cap, and a patterned scarf that looked like it came from the back of my grandparent's closet, only cool. He had a bushy gray mustache, a soul patch and extremely short gray hair. And to top it off, he had on brown, oversized, thick framed glasses. The only thing missing was a pipe and a pure bread Irish Setter. Which might have both been in the car for all I know.

It made me feel like I was on the right track. However coincidental it might have been, I was going to a specific dry cleaner at precisely the same time as a local class "A" gentleman. At the very least, it was a very this-guy-knows-what-I'm-taking-about moment. And it was kind of inspiring.