We were on our second cup of coffee and his list of woes, worries, and bewilderments continued to flow out of him like blood from a wound.
Pete sat slumped over his coffee cup, still wearing the badge from his booth at the expo. He was here for work, near my home, so I drove out to meet him and catch up with my old friend. We'd known each other over thirty years. Phones calls remained fairly frequent, but visits were very rare.
Tossing back the last of his coffee, he paused from his latest tale of marital and family strain, to stand and say he had to get back to prepare his booth for the next day. I went along and learned more of his frustrations as we walked back to the display building and meandered through a maze of displays.
There were few people still around, only other exhibitors, in various corners of the huge building. His booth was back in a deserted section, hidden behind the high walls of another booth, which now stood empty.
I leaned against a pile of boxes as he set about restocking tables slowly and telling me more about his troubles at home. I did not mind this; I'd heard a lot of the same before over long phone calls. I knew he was just venting frustrations. Something about today seemed different though. He seemed darker and more weary.