The local Family Dollar is a thing of beauty in these parts. I love it because it is the primary provider of toilet paper, shampoo, and emergency chocolate. I hate it because it's a Family Dollar halfway into the hood, which is a story in itself, but not for today and not for this blog I think.
Anyway, the manager there is a young Hispanic guy who I haven't caught the name of, but I've chit chatted with on several occasions. When he rings me up this time, I notice he's wearing an L.A Kings sweatshirt. He notices my Bruins jersey through my half opened wool coat.
"You from L.A?" I ask.
"No," he replies, "but I like the way they play the game. I've been a fan of them for 6 years or so. I'm a fan of most of the L.A teams. You from Boston?"
"Yeah, moves 6 months or so ago. My friends were worried I'd like the Blackhawks after moving here."
"I bet you hate them more! Haha!"
"I wouldn't say that, but they haven't endeared themselves to me that's for damn sure!"
We then begin this conversation about sports loyalty and just loyalty in general. We carry on until someone gets in line behind me.
I walk back into the cold with his words hanging out in my head.
"You love what you love, regardless of location or logistics. If it's real, it stays with you, you know?"
I know.
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