A. found a collection of items on the driveway this morning: one caster wheel, a roll of paper towels, some electric cable zip ties, a toe nail clipper, some screwdriver bits, a lock tumbler, a valve housing and a few fittings, a spark plug, a few drywall screws, a dental hook thingy, and other seemingly random items. Since we’d risk puncturing our tires if we were to drive over the screws, I bagged up all the flotsam and jetsam and tossed them into the trashcan outside. About a half-an-hour later, a guy rang the doorbell and asked me where all the stuff from the driveway had disappeared to. Another shorter more agitated dude then walked up and asked if I’d seen a toolbox and a wheeled cart. Apparently the shorter guy had gotten into a Valentine’s Day quarrel with his lady friend last night, and this led to a select portion of his possessions being strewn about on our driveway.
They were insistent on getting back the stuff I’d thrown out, and I assured them that it wasn’t a problem and that I’d come out to get it for them. They started to repeat that they really needed the stuff, and I interrupted rather grouchily, “DUDE! I’m coming out!” I bent down to slip on my shoes, and when I stood up they’d disappeared around the corner and they had started helping themselves to the …
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