Todd doesn’t have a rebellious bone in his body. Never has. He loves the ebb and flow of the year marked by holidays and traditions. In the weeks leading up to his high school graduation, at a public school no less, albeit in the suburbs where a bit more effort is spent fostering the importance of community and continuity, Todd lived in a state of high awareness. Every moment was laced with significance marking the “end of an era”, Todd liked to crow with a faux reverb. The tears however were real. “The last time we’ll cut out of school to wolf down kimchi in Flushing, the last time we’ll do detention together, the last graduation party.” Todd was sure these friendships would last forever. Five years later, Todd found himself alone, with not a friend in sight. Unsure of where he might find what he needed, namely a sense of permanence, Todd secured a lowly position at the Metropolitan Museum in New York, an institution chosen because of its rich and august history. Now Todd delights in taking young couples on tour of the galleries, helping them to identify the perfect place to propose and then tie the knot a few months hence. In this way, Todd is certain that the love he pours into the Met will be reciprocated. Young, sparkly couples wave to him as he passes through the Egyptian wing, a favorite spot for popping the question but hard on the knees for the one doing the asking. Tonight there is the tree lighting ceremony. Todd, for one, can’t wait.