pete miller was just a guy.
all the people who knew him said so.
nobody argued, or said different.
he just went along from day to day.
pete had a red shirt that he liked.
but he did not wear it every day.
he had a blue shirt, and a green shirt, and three or four white shirts, and he wore those too.
he had other things to think about, besides what shirt he should wear.
a girl named nadine worked at the sub shop pete frequented.
one day pete asked her to go on a date.
oh, i’m married, she replied.
ah, pete replied, and looked down at her hand , which did not have a wedding ring on it.
i don’t wear a wedding ring because i do not want to get hot sauce on it, nadine explained.
that makes sense, pete said, i guess the joke is on me.
one of these days i will get lucky, pete thought, and say something without making a complete ass of myself.
he took the american sub and large coke he had ordered and went and sat at a table beside the window.
it was raining outside, and a woman walked by under an umbrella.
pete thought about going to an animal shelter and getting a cat.
he finished his american sub more quickly than usual and got up and left, leaving half his large coke behind.
usually he took the unfinished coke with him, but not on this day.
and he usually said goodbye to nadine or whoever else was behind the counter of the sub shop, but he realized when he got outside that he had not.
whatever, he thought.
he walked along in the rain, keeping close to the sides of the buildings.
he forgot about the cat.
he wondered if he should keep on going to the sub shop, or find a new one.
their subs were not that great anyway.
or their fries or onion rings either, when he had them, which was not that often, because he was trying to keep his weight down.
right now he had to get back to work.
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