The man at Sherbourne station

"Thursday," said my newsstand man, smiling at me.

I don't know his name, but I see him twice a day at Sherbourne subway station, in the morning on my way to work and in the evening on my way home.  He's always there, smiling, chatting up the customers, and always keeping an eye on things - so much so that I once saw him chastise and stop a would-be shoplifter while barely breaking his conversation with me.

He was there, of course, when I started working for Rogers a year and a half ago; that was when I started buying my Glamour magazines from him.  And even though I would only buy one thing from him a month (sometimes two, if a particularly bad day required chocolate) he remembered me.  When Flare published its 30th anniversary issue last September, he pointed it out to me, one of his "best customers".  I had been thinking of subscribing to Glamour again but after he said that, I knew I would keep buying my magazine from him.

Now, he not only tells me when the magazine will be in but he keeps one behind the counter for me because he only gets three or four copies and sometimes there is only one left by the end of the day, when I'm there to buy it.  He doesn't know my name either but he knows me and he knows I'll be there for my magazine, so he keeps one for me.  And I will always stop by to pick it up.