I figured him for a tough guy. He was about 55 years old, a mustache, glasses and cap. He was driving an old white car, an Oldsmobile or something. He noted the gasoline prices. “They keep going up don’t they?” I agreed. $2.99 a gallon.
We chatted then. He said he would have to start riding his bike – motorcycle that is – even in winter if prices keep moving that direction. We chuckled about it. He’d have trouble with that on the ice. He was friendly. He was cynical. He wasn’t afraid to cuss.
I stepped over to him before he got into his car and asked him my question. His demeanor changed a little then. He quieted some and said I could pray for him. He was quite willing. He thanked me afterward and shook my hand.
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