“You got a light?” he said. “Sure,” I said, and I struck a match for him.
Instead of just leaning down and lighting the cigarette, he reached out to make a cup around the match with our hands,
which is something we all do when it’s windy. But it wasn’t windy.
I think he just wanted to touch my hands because while he was lighting the cigarette, he did it for a lot longer than necessary.
Maybe he wanted me to see his face over the glow of the match. To see how handsome he was.
I don’t know. He did look familiar. But I couldn’t figure out from where.
He blew out the match. “Thanks.” And exhaled. “No problem,” I said.
“Mind if I sit down?” he asked. “Not really.” He sat down. And said a few things. And it was his voice. I recognized his voice.
So, I lit another cigarette and looked at his face again, and thought hard, and that’s when I figured it out.
It was the guy who does the sports on the TV news! “Nice night,” he said. I couldn’t believe it!
I guess I managed to nod because he kept talking. About sports!
He kept talking about how the designated hitter in baseball was bad
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