“Have a better day,” the cashier said.
I contemplated that.
Not a good day, like so many people bid us as we move through our daily
existence.
Not the best
day, either. That would be presumptuous—best
is somewhat sacred.
Best not to spend
that top-spot billing on a Tuesday that involved a trip to the supermarket, the
gas station, and the post office.
A better day.
Better than what? Did I look like I wasn't having a good day? I wondered briefly if I should be offended, but I quickly
dismissed the thought.
Better than it had been prior to this conversation?
What did she mean?
Maybe I was over-thinking this. Better is superior to good
without the responsibility of best.
If this was her intention, I liked it.
I hope my day lived up to her request.
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