My computer had been running slow recently, and I started feeling overwhelmed with updates and software and clouds and all that, so I hired, Luis, a friend of a friend’s husband, to help fix it. He was quiet and polite – as I’d pictured a computer repair guy to be. He was slight of stature, not much taller or heavier than me, and his hands were clean, not scuffed and stained like my mechanic husband’s paws. He began working on my computer and we made some small talk, until he saw the desktop photo of my son riding a minibike.
“I had a Yamaha PW50 growing up,” he said.
I was surprised. I didn’t expect him to know the brand, make and model of the bike. I smiled and said,…
