sweepassing in the hallway

The house manager and I passed each other; I was thinking about how I was going to be leaving soon.
Fourteen feet behind me, he turns and says, "Oh yea and-" (I know this is my social cue to turn around) "- don't be shy about playing the pianos, that's what they're there for." I smile happily at the kindness before the whole thing sinks in and acknowledge, "OK."
We both turn back to our respective directions and he continues, "They build 'em to play 'em," and I'm not really sure if it was to himself or to me but that hardly matters. He has never struck me as the type to ruminate aloud so it probably was spoken more to me than anything and I definitely did a half-turn, thinking I had truncated our interaction but he was definitely walking away.

He strikes me as a jolly man in some weird way...Jolly perhaps for the way he moves, not as much for how he looks. I hardly ever interact with him and I never hear him say much but, from the way he works, the way he listens, the way he responds, talks, writes notes, I get the impression that he is an all around kind person and there's something about that which boggles me and I can't quite figure it out.

When the greatness of what he HAD said did finally sink in, I had a bigger, to-myself smile present itself and I promptly made plans to sit down and drop a song after I clocked out. It's good. Music is good. Random baby grands where you don't expect them are great, too.