I work with this guy named Bill, who is a site manager for a few of the places we provide services for. I felt a connection with him because he's from Brooklyn, he's every bit as abrasive, to the point, and caring as any other Noo Yawker I've ever known, and for the brief moments I talk with him I feel like I'm back east, it makes me miss my family and friends.
Bill's a great guy, although he rubs some people the wrong way, but I know his heart is in the right place. Today he was walking around with a case of boxes of chocolate covered cherries, and asking us if we preferred dark or milk chocolate. This is amazing because I have been craving chocolate covered cherries for the past couple of days, and normally I don't really think about them. Bill went on to explain that he's giving these out because his mother gave him a box of cherries every year since he was born for Christmas, up until 2 years ago when she passed away. He started to get a little broken up about it, which in turn started to break me up. Bill moved on, with his box of holiday chocolate and cheer, to the next cubicle and told the story to the next recipients, which prompted me to document this.