Ice

Ice … I always think of Joey when I’m getting ice at work. Work has this massive, over sized ice machine. I don’t know why we have it. It makes like 600 lbs a day and we don’t even use ice at work… just in our drinks at lunch. I usually get asked to bring a cooler (or 2, 3, 4,…) of ice whenever I go to a pot luck or some sort of event. It’s cheap and it’s good to use the ice – keeps it fresh. I’m a pretty social guy so the request to get ice happen a frequently. To be honest, it’s a pain to get ice. It’s always after hours. Everything is locked up. It’s a pain to haul the coolers – you end up sweating like a pig. I usually try to get somebody to help – you know; many hands make the load light. Most people will begrudgingly come along to help carry the end of a cooler, but it’s hard to get help. People will stand and watch me scoop out the ice. If I happen to miss the cooler with a few cubes, most people (all) will just ignore it. Hey, it’s not their work place, right? Most (all) of the time I just kicked the cubes to the side of the room underneath a table – it’ll evaporate by the time someone comes by, right? Well, not Joey. He would always pick up those cubes and toss them in the sink. Get a paper towel and wipe the floor. He just did it as a matter of fact, not for show or in your face sort of way. Joey’s actions spoke to me about the degree of character that he possessed… that he would pick up after me at my place of work… his care /concern for my reputation. Men like Joey a so very few and far between. I am honored to have had time with him, and blessed by his friendship. I still bring ice to events but I pick up the cubes myself, remembering Joey as I do. Miss you, bro.

Bradley