“Which floor?” The weatherworn man asks, leaning over his metal walker.
“Nineteen.” I reply, as though we hadn’t had this exchange a hundred times. He punches nineteen for me then eighteen for him.
“How was your day?”
“Showed a 10-year-old how I use software so he can make improvements. Then I picked up a ghost.” I hold up the plastic Halloween-themed ghost. Possibly also made by a 10-year-old.
“I went to the store earlier to get playing cards but forgot.” He says, mostly to the ghost. “Looked at automotive stuff and ended up getting Dr. Pepper and a jumbo box of Halloween candy.”
“That’s a risk of store-visiting. If I need something I’ve learned to get it first and then look at other things.”
“I’ll try that next time.”
“I like your socks.” We both look at his electric blue and canary yellow polka dotted socks pulled over his pant legs.
“I figured I might as well engage with life today.”
“We might as well do that while we’re here,” I agree.
The elevator doors open and I wish him a good evening. Drinking with whoever stops by until he passes out, although maybe not over cards tonight.
I nail my ghost to the door with surprisingly satisfying hammer thwacks. Might as well engage with life, baby.