Singing

I was in Target the other day when I heard singing. Not murmured, humming-along-with-the-radio singing, but singing. Bold, rich singing coming from somewhere across the store.And this wasn't pop star singing.

This was auditioning for the opera singing.

I looked around trying to find the source...it was the cart boy.

I'm not trying to sound mean or aloof, but that's exactly who it was. The young, gangly, shaggy-haired teenager pushing a line of carts into place by the door. I stood stock-still by a rack of clearance earrings and listened to him sing with abandon. He finished with the carts and moved on, his voice fading in the distance. Does he take lessons? Does anybody know? It was a very Good Will Hunting moment except I had nothing to offer him, no contract promising a future of fame and fortune. All I could do was listen silently and appreciate.

Thank you, cart boy. I hope one day your on-stage banter includes telling the story of when you used to work at Target and surprise the shoppers with your soaring voice until the fateful day a talent scout handed you their card and said, "Call me, kid. You've got what it takes."