figmentation

where are you, if you are not home?

I remember back in the summer right before I went to school, the girl I was with and I were out at a bar and we met a mean who was really quite friendly, but was hollowed out inside, like over the course of the evening he confided in us about how his children drifted apart and let us in on how the only thing really keeping him going was his job. I remember feeling really sorry for him, even if he wasn't playing for the pity angle. (Seeing the film About Shmidt reminded me of this man from Mobile, Alabama)