Face #9: Jan

A security guard at the estate where I live.

Jan loves jazz. He wears a shiny black cap on sunny days. He always rubs his hands together and nods when he greets people. He is tall and lean. Gangly with a caramel complexion. Serious eyes peer at me from their wrinkled cases. But he very rarely smiles.

We greet each other every day. He rubs his hands and nods. I can hear his strong accent.

“Have a nice day.”

One day, I was on my way home from university. I was playing some jazz music in my car. I arrived at the estate gate and rolled down my window to greet Jan. Suddenly a wide toothless grin burst onto his face.

“You like jazz?”

“I LOVE jazz Jan!! Do you like it too?”

“I do! I do!”

When I arrived at the gate about two days ago, I was playing jazz music in my car again. I saw that Jan was on duty and turned the music up. I rolled down my window.

“Here’s some jazz music for you Jan!!”

“Ahhhh!”

And there he stood. Smiling that rare smile.

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