To start off the story, basically I have a pointless shift at a shop every saturday morning; it’s not long enough for me to actually get a useful amount of money, but it’s not short enough for time to pass quickly and painlessly. Anyway, this morning, as I slumped across the counter staring endlessly into the crowded carpark searching for some form of entertainment, i noticed an elderly man, one of the regulars, perched on the metallic seats to the right entrance of the shop. His walking stick propped next to him, and a basket in his lap. I found myself contemplating the endless possibilities of this man’s life; who he was, what he did, how he ended up there. It made me think, when people get older, it’s like their past lives slowly but surely fade into nothingness, as the realities of grandchildren and more recent focuses emerge. For all i knew, this man could have been a famous race car driver, or perhaps just a grocery store checkout server. However, nowadays to all intents and purposes, he was viewed by all the passers-by as just another old man. He eventually meandered over and ordered his usual, but this time i made sure to push past the pleasantries and initiate a real conversation. As he was about to leave, he thanked me sincerely, and said ‘it’s nice to finally feel as though someone’s interested in what i do these days’, in his usual abrupt manner. I smiled and plodded to the back of the store, content with the fact i’d helped him feel noticed.