She had just asked me the simplest of questions, yet it was one I didn’t have an answer to. At least I knew why I was standing here in this little pet store. I wanted to talk to her.
“What do you recommend” I responded, trying to think of something clever and failing miserably.
The girl from algebra class with the red hair and freckled cheeks bent down behind the counter and reappeared moments later with a tiny beagle.
“How about him?”
I had no interest in buying a dirty, smelly puppy.
But for her, I would’ve bought a dozen.
The Weekday One Hundred 