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as i worked this afternoon, an older gentleman approached me and asked where we kept the bing cherries. i told him they were on the back side of the first display table.

he said "thanks."

i subsequently began filling the red flame grapes when i heard the same man's voice inquire "did you ever sing in an opera?"

i peered at him for a moment wondering whether the question was a setup to a joke or a prelude to a snotty comment. i was caught off guard so i simpy replied "no."

"you have a baritone voice," he said.

ok, then.

how the fuck am i supposed to respond to that? race over to the intercom and give some sort of lavish ode to pavarotti?

i guess my voice sounds ridiculously deep for a nonsmoker. between the hours of three in the morning and noon my voice resonates like gravel looks. the rest of the day my voice verberates like a pissed off incarnation of barry white's larynx.

"thanks," i told the man thus fittingly bringing the conversation full circle.

such was my day.