“How ya’ doin’?”
It kind of caught us off-guard while we were locking the bikes to the parking meters in front of the Polish bakery. Maybe the Wolfman Jack tone of his voice added to the surprise. We looked up and saw an older black guy ambling along the sidewalk in a matching velour sweatsuit and carrying a shiny cane.
“Good, how’re you?" I replied.
“Looking good, looking good. Bottom line – you look good.”
We weren’t even wearing matching team jerseys. But we looked good. Bottom line.