E-bay Dude

Can you feel your feet? I ask the man sitting at the desk facing mine.

We are in the Business Center of my apartment complex's clubhouse, using the computers.

He is Ebay Dude. He is at the computer day and night. I am here at all hours--10 p.m., midnight, 2 a.m., 6 a.m., 4 p.m.--to check my email or drop a line on the blog. After nearly a year of meeting this way, we have become familiar strangers.

Tonight I am writing madly. He is bidding, listening to the music from Spaghetti Westerns.

It is the middle of the night. The building is deserted. It's cozy and comfy. I feel the urge to make a friendly overture.

Hey, can you feel your feet? I venture.

I can wiggle my ears, he says.