Kentucky

AuthorKenneth P. Nolan
Pages177-181
Kentucky
177
It happened all the time. I would be walking to Starbucks on the
silent sidewalks of Lexington to appease my addiction to all things
New York with a purchase of The New York Times. Out of nowhere,
a garbageman, or a young attractive office worker, or a guy who
looked like he could use a long shower would look at me and hap-
pily declare, “Good morning.”
“Whoa, whoa, what does he want?” was my initial internal re-
action. My head swiveled like that kid in The Exorcist to make sure
I wasn’t being set up. It took a few seconds to process all this good
cheer. Then I’d mumble a quick and quizzical “Good morning,”
with “Whats goin’ on here?” running through my calloused brain.
“Have a nice day, sir,” would be the delighted response. I’d try to
reply in the same sincere, happy tone, but I hadn’t had coffee and
my “good morning”s were at best limited to a nod of the head as I
rushed to the office or court, and through life. “Yeah, you, too,” is
all I could mumble.
Whenever I exited the elevator at Stoll Keenon Ogden—a local
Lexington law firm—Linda or Sarah, the receptionists, would al-
ways announce, “Good morning,” with a smile no less. And what
really blew me away was that even if I returned the smile and the
“Good morning,” it didn’t end. It was like a whole conversation. I
was actually expected to stop and talk to someone. In fact, not just

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