N. came over to carry out my huge, crappy tv. I can hardly wiggle that tv over a few inches, but he picked it right up and carried it, while I trailed along carrying a small package of shower curtain rings that I have long been intending to bring to goodwill (they don't work on the type of pole from which my shower curtain hangs). I felt fully useless.
When we got to goodwill, it took a long time for someone to answer the doorbell, long enough for N. to go back to the car, get the tv, and bring it over to set it on the large tv that had been sitting there for a while and was soaking wet. When the goodwill guy came, he was tall and dark-haired, wearing safety glasses. He told us to step inside and then he said that the tv was ruined because it was raining (it's always raining here) and rain had fallen into the little slots in the back and the tv would have to be recycled.
We protested. "We just got here! The other one has been here for a long time, but we just got here with this one. I'm sure it is fine. The rain hasn't gotten into it yet." (All this protest, it occurs to me now, for a tv that doesn't actually work very well - the picture is bright pink.)
The employee, whose name began with an M., looked at us gravely. "I am very sorry to have upset you so greatly," he said. "Please accept my apologies."
More protesting. "No, no! It's fine! We aren't upset at all."
"Good," M. said. "If I may say so, you two have a very positive spirit. I can feel it when I speak to you. Is that all right? Do you mind that I say that?"
"That's fine," we said. "Thank you."
"I like your beard, sir," he said to N., who reached up to rub his stubble and said, slightly confused, "Well, I don't have much of one right now. Yours is nice, though."
"If you don't shave for a few days, you will have one like me," M. said, clearly proud of his own beard (which was, truly, a very nice beard). "Lots of people in this town have beards. They are very popular."
"Yes," N. said, "I guess they are. I have one sometimes."
We donated the tv, and when I got home I was delighted by all the free floor space in my apartment. My bike is no longer pinned behind my bed by a huge immovable television that I never turn on. I am sure that will be even more delightful when the weather clears up and I can actually take my bike out from behind my bed without fighting the tv, but for now I am just enjoying the open space, and the fact that I can get to my bedside lamp without flopping all the way over my bed.
And pretty much every time I see N. from now on, I am going to have to tell him how great his beard is. Whether he has one or not.
When we got to goodwill, it took a long time for someone to answer the doorbell, long enough for N. to go back to the car, get the tv, and bring it over to set it on the large tv that had been sitting there for a while and was soaking wet. When the goodwill guy came, he was tall and dark-haired, wearing safety glasses. He told us to step inside and then he said that the tv was ruined because it was raining (it's always raining here) and rain had fallen into the little slots in the back and the tv would have to be recycled.
We protested. "We just got here! The other one has been here for a long time, but we just got here with this one. I'm sure it is fine. The rain hasn't gotten into it yet." (All this protest, it occurs to me now, for a tv that doesn't actually work very well - the picture is bright pink.)
The employee, whose name began with an M., looked at us gravely. "I am very sorry to have upset you so greatly," he said. "Please accept my apologies."
More protesting. "No, no! It's fine! We aren't upset at all."
"Good," M. said. "If I may say so, you two have a very positive spirit. I can feel it when I speak to you. Is that all right? Do you mind that I say that?"
"That's fine," we said. "Thank you."
"I like your beard, sir," he said to N., who reached up to rub his stubble and said, slightly confused, "Well, I don't have much of one right now. Yours is nice, though."
"If you don't shave for a few days, you will have one like me," M. said, clearly proud of his own beard (which was, truly, a very nice beard). "Lots of people in this town have beards. They are very popular."
"Yes," N. said, "I guess they are. I have one sometimes."
We donated the tv, and when I got home I was delighted by all the free floor space in my apartment. My bike is no longer pinned behind my bed by a huge immovable television that I never turn on. I am sure that will be even more delightful when the weather clears up and I can actually take my bike out from behind my bed without fighting the tv, but for now I am just enjoying the open space, and the fact that I can get to my bedside lamp without flopping all the way over my bed.
And pretty much every time I see N. from now on, I am going to have to tell him how great his beard is. Whether he has one or not.
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