Yesterday’s post was just an example of one of the “commonplace” conversations we have at my office that would be bizarre to others. Part of the feel of living and working in REALLY small town.
There is a one-armed man living in an “apartment” two store fronts down from my office. This greatly amuses us, as 1. One armed man! (it’s insensitive, but what is more curiousity provoking?) 2. It’s a store front, for god’s sake! What idiot turned it in to an apartment?
A couple of days ago I was leaving the office to go to the pharmacy (also on our block), hoping for a pleasant encounter with the multi-personality clerk. In the middle of the street was a medium-sized black dog with a short, gruff-voiced man calling it. “Come back, damn dog!”
The dog promptly ran the other direction.
He would stop, sniff something, mark his territory. The man would get closer, the dog would see him and run another block, stop and sniff, repeat, repeat.
Later that day I saw the dog chaser entering the one-armed man’s apartment.
Yesterday he was there again.
“I think the short, loud guy with the black dog is moving in with the one-armed man.â€