This morning at my local Waffle House as I sit at the counter, I converse with a gentleman who sits next to me. He tells me he’s glad the rain is gone and that he has just dropped his son off at work. At the end of his meal, he takes my check to pay for it. I protest briefly then ask if he might enjoy reading my book.
Next thing I know, I’ve sold THE EIGHT-FOOT BOY to him.
I don’t ask full price, and sign it as I usually do.
A delightful moment in my day.