around the neighborhood, this time it's middle of the day and sunny, Saturday,
Sabbath for some, but not here.
Chainsaws are buzzing; I smile at a woman pushing a lawn mower that looks too large for her.
A man in a baseball cap, smoking a cigarette, riding a bike with a dog running along on a leash,
tips his hat at me. He's pretty good looking and young and I'm glad chivalry is not dead.
After walking a few loops, I spot an old foot locker, put out at the curb for garbage pick up.
It's old, but in good shape, and doesn't look or smell of mold from all the recent flooding.
There's a golden eagle painted on the front.
I try, but cannot open it. I call home to get someone to bring a car; no one answers.
So I power walk to the house, grab some keys, hop in the car, and hope that in the time elapsed
no one else took it.
The foot locker is still there, at the curb, waiting for me.
The weather has cranked up the heat and it's lunch time, so suddenly all is quiet and I see no one around.
I try to pick the foot locker up, christ-what's-in-it?? I've single-handedly brought home larger items
than this in the past, a Victorian cherry wood table, several sofas, a 3x6 foot half-inch thick mirror, to name a few.
So as I'm feeling feminine and weak and mad, I hear a man whistling across the street. I'm saved!
In general, I hate to ask for help, but I want this too much, so I saunter over to the whistling.
He is sitting in a chair, smoking a cigarette, and fixing the blade of a tree pruning saw.
I almost don't even get a chance to ask before he is jumping up, shaking my hand, and introducing himself.
It's chivalry-is-not-dead-guy!
He not only puts the locker in the car for me, he tells me he almost took it himself, but since he's moving
soon, his wife said no. I ask if he's been married long, has kids, the usual polite questions.
We get into a very long discussion
of how to be a good neighbor if there's no fence between properties.
I wish him good luck in his new home and tell him as gently as possible, if you want your marriage to last,
don't let your wife tell you what you can or cannot do.
He laughs as if I told THE funniest joke ever, but I'm dead serious.

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