It's nice to be remembered

A tall, nice looking man carrying a broom stopped at my table and said, "Didn't you used to walk at the Lane Avenue Mall?" I had no idea who he was and didn't recognize him, but I agreed, that was indeed me for many years. Coffee at Caribou; walk for 30 minutes at Lane; on to open the Veterinary Library at 7:30.

"How did you remember me after all these years?" I asked, after he told me he was a maintenance worker there in those years.

"I always remember pleasant people," he said.

Maybe he remembers the times I forgot to change back into my dress shoes and had to come back and look for them.