I walked into a convenience store with the intention of buying a pack of cigarettes. Marlboro Mediums. In a box. I was toying with the idea of picking up a soda, too. I couldn't really make up my mind. It was 2:53 AM on a Tuesday.

I decided that a soda was definitely in the cards. I grabbed one and headed for the counter. There was a boy working the cash register. He had intense eyes. I looked into them as I handed him my soda and asked for my cigarettes. He looked back at me for a second and then asked me a question, "Are you happy?"

I kept looking into his eyes for a long time. I didn't say anything because I was thinking. I was thinking about meaningless accomplishment and petrified hope and unrealized dreams. I was thinking about lazy contentment and unknowing settlement for a tepid existence. I said, "No. I'm not."

His eyes were blue. He said, "Me, either."

My eyes were green. I said, "Why not?"

He reached over his head and grabbed my cigarettes. His eyes never left mine. He said, "I don't think my life means anything."

I reached into my pocket for some cash. I maintained eye contact and said, "I don't think anybody's does."

He took my money and said, "I think that there must be some people in this world who have lives that mean something. There must be someone, somewhere, who has a life that they enjoy. Otherwise, I wouldn't know that there was such a thing to aspire to. I wouldn't feel so empty inside."

I took my change and said, "I think it's impossible to be completely happy. That there are people out there who are fairly happy, but overall, complete happiness is a myth."

He said, "You seem very cynical."

I said, "You seem very hopeless."

"Do you think there's a difference?" he asked.

"Probably not." I answered.

He looked at me for a few more seconds and said, "This is the part where I tell you to have a nice day."

I wouldn't let his eyes go. I said, "This is the part where I don't recognize you as a human being or acknowledge that you've spoken to me, take my things and go."

He thought about that for a minute. He said, "It's kind of sad, isn't it? That people come in contact with each other all the time, but they never really let anyone touch them."

I smiled a little bit, "It's really sad, actually. But as the immortal Bruce Hornsby once said, "That's just the way it is. Some things will never change."

He laughed a little bit, "Do you really think that Bruce Hornsby had it all figured out?"

I grinned, "No. But it was an appropriate thing to say."

He stopped laughing. "Yes. I think it was. That's sad, too."

I stopped grinning. "Yes. It is."

"You should come in again." he said.

"I think that I will." I responded.

He smiled and said, "That's good."

I smiled back and said, "Yes."

So we both smiled, and I left, but you know what? I didn't go back for a long time. When I did, I didn't see him. I don't know if he switched hours or got a different job or just gave up. I wish that I knew. He made me think. That was something that I needed. Because after that, I made some changes. I shifted my life around until I was closer to my ideal of happiness. Sometimes, it requires a complete stranger to remind us that we're missing things that we forgot we wanted. I just wanted to tell him that.