We were talking about crying.
Two men, sitting in a booth eating lunch…
at a truck stop.
Surrounded by guys in ball caps and overalls.
Could hardly smell the burgers cooking.
Too much testosterone in the air.
As we discussed crying.
And the movie that causes it to happen.
Toy Story 3.
He sort of laughed when I mentioned the title.
Chuckled uneasily.
“That stupid movie…” he said.
His voice trailed off.
Then we glanced at one another.
His eyes looked moist.
I wanted to call him a sissy.
But there was a lump in my throat.
Fighting hot tears myself.
Couldn’t stop picturing that final scene.
Andy passing Buss and Woody to the little girl.
One last play session…
…sniff…
I looked down at my food.
Breathed deep.
Cleared the images from my head.
Composed myself.
When it was safe to look up,
my friend asked, “What about Homeward Bound?”
And I had to run to the car.
5 Responses
I’m welling up right now!
I am a logophile and you have quite a way with words.
Thank you. Are you getting treated for your logophileism?
I categorically refuse to seek a cure for my verbosity!!! 😉
*Buzz…
That’s okay, though. You don’t have to know somebody’s name to be touched by their story.