Ten minutes later Gus is climbing in the passenger seat of my truck dressed in an old t-shirt with cut off sleeves that reads I'm just here for the tacos, and frayed out shorts, and we're headed to Home Depot. The paint department is daunting. Too many colors. Gus is like a kid in a candy store with the rainbow of paint sample cards in front of him. His intensity is frightening. "Remind me again what color your tile is?" "White. Everything's white except the walls." He's taking this seriously. I guess I need to too. He rubs the scruff on his chin, thinking. "The possibilities are endless."
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