"Chauffeur Thy Neighbor"

This one is a beauty! I've told the story to several people and all have enjoyed it greatly, so I bring it to you my loyal readers. By the way, this thing started out as a blog for the family and has kinda spiraled out of control. It makes me a little nervous when family members tell me how they have passed it on to others. Anyhoo, here we go, I hope you enjoy.

My wife and I recently purchased an investment property in a small town. That should send up a red flag right there seeing how most of you are from a small town. Instantly the neighbors are interested in what's going on and who the new owners are. We are able to keep a pretty low profile for the first month or so during the renovation, but then they start creeping closer. The folks on either side of us don't chat a lot, well I take that back, the one guy does but it's pretty harmless. It's the old couple across the street.

I am not an ageist! I can't wait to be that old guy that gets to say whatever he wants and people think it's funny or cute because he's old. You know, somewhere along the line old people go from grumpy to funny because they lose the filter. It happens to some sooner than others, but it just happens, and I can't wait.

So it begins with Leonard and his wife from across the street. I think they would have been over sooner but it's a long way down the driveway and across the street with a walker when you could just open your garage door, sit in your lawn chair, crack a beer, and talk to yourself, even cussing out loud once in awhile. This is Leonard's normal routine on nice weather days. (I told you, I can't wait) Leonard's wife is the first one over and notices that the company I work for also employed her grandson at one point and would I happen to know him. Seeing how I've been at the same company for 24 years, of course I know him, and instantly we are bonded together, kindred family for now and always. It takes repeating myself four times though to close this conversation out as Leonard's wife doesn't hear so good anymore, not so cute.

Fast forward a month or so, I'm at the property painting away inside and need to get something from my truck. I open the door and stop dead in my tracks, Leonard has muscled his way across the street and halfway up the drive, walker and all. A little dumbfounded, I ask if I can do anything for him and he replies, "I need some chuffeuring." I am rarely speechless, but just stare at him for a moment. I quickly try and recover. "You want me to drive you somewhere?" I ask him. "Yep, let's go." he says. I am quickly being shanghaied by this 80 something year old dude, again I throw up a roadblock. "I don't think you can get in my truck, it's pretty high off the ground." There take that Leo. "We'll take my car, come on, let's go." And he starts down the drive back to his house. Checkmate. I turn and go in the house to get my shoes and am wondering how this just happened. I trudge over to his garage and try one last time, "Are you sure about this? You don't even know me." He looks up from folding up his walker, stares me dead in the eye and says, "Oh I think I know you, let's go."

We get his walker stuffed in the back seat, complete with two tennis balls on the legs, I'm not kidding. We both climb into the front seat and it is awkward. He hands me the keys and says, "Head to the convenience store." Fortunately, the c-store is only six blocks away, but he still has time to ask me how I like this "ride" of his, and when I tell him it's real fine, he says he got it in '46, wait that's not right, '56. It's actually a 2006 but I let this go. We pull up to the store and he tells me to park in front, we have the 'sticker', and he points to the handicap hanger on the rear view. One perk of hanging with Leonard, front row parking. I walk around to help get his walker out and he tells me he doesn't need it here. I'm a little puzzled but we shuffle into the store. Leonard is greeted like Norm from Cheers by the crew of ladies working today, I realize why the old dog left his walker in the car, I'm starting to like this crafty s.o.b., he's still got some game.

He points out which twenty dollar lottery ticket he wants and crawls over to the only booth in the store to start scratching. Leonard has his own ticket scratcher and I realize I might have just stepped in it and could be here a awhile. He applies his system and scratches what appears to be a random box to me and wins two dollars, he looks up at me with a twinkle and says this one is a winner. I'm thinking, you spent twenty to win two? Then he scratches the rest of the ticket and it adds up to fifty bucks! He looks at me again and says, "I told you, now get me another." I have been entranced in this old guy's game now. I'm half way thinking he has a system. He scratches the next ticket and nothing. Now we are only up ten bucks so he gets out his wallet, cracks it open and it is stuffed. He grins and picks his way through and says to me, "This is about the ten dollar bill section." He hands me a ten and yells at the lady working the counter, "Give me a winner this time." She jokes that she already gave him the first winner but he's not having any of it. I bring back the ticket and he slowly scratches it, breathing loudly, not a winner. OK, I'm thinking time to go, but Leo thinks he wants one more ticket. This is like thirty minutes in now, so weakly I put my foot down and tell him I have to get back to painting. He tells the gal behind the counter to hurry up and give us a winner because "we" have to finish painting a house. Holy crap! Is this guy going hang with me while I work now? I start sweating a little trying to think of a way out of this. He eventually gets through the last ticket without winning another cent and we are ready to roll, or at least shuffle.

I get him out to the car and situated, we are back on the road, again it is awkward. I try and make small talk, and mention how he was pretty lucky to get a chance to scratch all those tickets and it not cost him a whole lot. Here's the doozy, I apologize to any that are offended, but it has to be quoted word for word. Leonard replies, "My dad used to tell me I was lucky enough to shit in a swinging jug." I almost swerve off the road and actually laugh out loud at this. He looks at me and says, "That's what he used to say to me." I recover somewhat and tell Leo that if he doesn't mind I'm going to be using that phrase from now on and he approves.

We creep into his garage and I gently bump the windshield against the tennis ball hanging from the ceiling to mark his spot and shut the car off. I ask if he needs help getting his walker out and he says no, at this point I'm off like a rocket across the street hoping he's not planning on watching me paint, I hear the door to the house open and his wife say something. Not sure if she is talking to me or Leo I don't look back and duck into my property.

We have installed a new peep hole at the property and use it every time before we go outside, just in case.