He was a Miller man long before his trimmed goatee started turning gray, long before he began commuting to the city for work.
He tucked his badge into his shirt pocket before joining his buddy from bowling and female coworker in the facing seats at the front of the car. They had met years ago during a commute home. Bonding over Miller Lite and complaints of their work day, he came to look forward to his ride home. For months, he sat looking at the lights passing through the window frame, but now he had a posse.
Tonight, they cracked open their tall boys, cheers’d and released. It was a two can day for him. His friends began to sip more, laugh more and swear more as they made their way through their cans and stories. Tonight’s conversation focused on how great Tommy Boy was.
After the first stop, new passengers boarded. One walked up to their bench seats with a Bud Light in hand and asked if the extra seat was taken.