I waited for him to finish washing the windows of his car, and then again during the slow process of waiting for his receipt to be spit out of the gas pump. He was a tall guy, dressed like he had just gotten off work. He had an earbud in one ear. I don't know what he was listening to. I pictured him as an architect or an advertising executive or someone else in one of those creative fields.
I still was filling my car with gas when he finally stepped toward his door. I asked him my question then, and he stopped. That familiar puzzled look crossed his face then. Behind his uplifted eyebrows I'm sure he was thinking how strange this was. But he said yes. Something caused him to say yes. I don't know what it was. Maybe he didn't want to offend me. Great!
So I prayed there for him as he was tidying up his receipt. He smiled a little then and thanked me.
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