Reggie Henke '12 | Feb. 11, 2014 | Notre Dame Magazine
My car pulls into the driveway as a stranger peeks through the blinds eagerly awaiting my arrival. She doesn’t know me, but she’s friendly and welcoming at the door. If I do my job right our interaction is brief, businesslike and satisfying. Should she bother to watch me go, the Fighting Irish sticker on my rear bumper is the last she’ll see of me until the craving returns.