Today, while waiting at the pharmacy, (which is a lovely two block walk from my new apartment) I made my first friend in
He was holding a mouse.
I think I should clarify my earlier statement. He is Asian, Vietnamese to be precise. He is cute, in that nine-year-old way. And he’s definitely funny, he walks all over Trolley square holding a mouse – and he thinks it’s a hamster.
Kevin and I struck up a conversation about his hamster/mouse, and we became instant friends. He saw my ID card attached to my shirt and said, “Oh, so you’re a doctor?” (He already sees how amazingly intelligent I am and probably recognizes that I’m only in marketing because I’m trying to follow my true passion – writing.) I correct him and tell him I’m a writer, to which he asks, “Is that why you have a pen in your wallet?”
“Yes,” I tell him, surprised at how observant he is, and proudly pull out three others from my purse. I have now proven my abilities as a writer – what half decent writer doesn’t carry an unnecessary amount of pens with her at all times?
As we talk, I start to realize that everyone at the pharmacy knows Kevin. This is apparently where he and Brownie, the hamster/mouse, hang out. I ask him what he does with Brownie when he wants to eat. He tell me he puts her in his pocket. Then he rethinks his answer – “I don’t do that with these pants though.”
He proceeds, wordlessly, to stick his hand, still holding Brownie, in the pocket of his sweatpants. Then he bends over until Brownie’s head pops out under the elastic band at his ankle. This is a much more satisfactory way of finding out someone has a hole in his pocket.
I get my prescription and tell Kevin how much I enjoyed our little chat. He said that he’ll probably see me again and that I’ll get to pet Brownie again too.
Thanks, Kevin. I’m glad you’re my first new friend in