I first met him when he was ringing up my coffee and slice of banana bread at the Nordstrom Cafe. He called me love. "What can I get you love?" and "That will be three dollars Love" and "Have a great day Love."
Although it was a bit over used, he did this with all of the customers he encountered. It was refreshing. I could think of a ton of other names that I would rather not be called and Love was better than many of them.
Although he stands six foot and a handful, he is gentle in nature. His hair is colored reddish-purple chin length, and flips up at the ends. His dark eyes are framed with black rimed glasses. His voice is feminine and sweet, and his name is Tiny. Yes, Tiny.
Recently on a trip to Target, I saw him. Evidently he works two jobs. "Will he call me Love again, or does Target have a policy?"
He rang up my items and gave me the total. I waited. He bagged my cookies while my ATM card did it's thing. I waited. He handed me the bag and then it happened. "Here you go Love. Mahalo"
He calls me Love, and I have no idea who he is.