Unknown Man

Tall and lanky, he grinned as he strode past me, raising a two-finger mini salute. I found his smile dazzling and infectious. I couldn’t help but answer in kind.

He was back again the next weekend, smiling that wide-mouth grin. Definitely a contagious kind of one. Charm emanated from him. I wondered if that grin had gotten him out of childhood trouble, or did it annoy his teachers?

This man appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He walked with a military stride even as he pushed a cart filled with animal feed, smiling and saluting again as he left the store.

To my way of thinking, his grin and bearing seemed at odds. A scene of him saluting a drill sergeant flashed into my mind. He was trying to control his enormous grin, but failing.

The sergeant yelled, “Wipe that silly grin off your face. You look like a village idiot. Drop and give me twenty.” He glanced at the other squad members. “Don’t stand there smirking. Drop and give me twenty.”

Back in the barracks, he apologized. One comrade scoffed. “You forking moron. Always getting us in trouble. Can’t you do something to dim that megawatt grin of yours?”

His grin widened. “Sorry guys. Can’t help doing what comes naturally.”

The beefiest private approached and punched him in the gut. Laughing, he said, “Sorry. Had to do what comes naturally.”