Suddenly It All Made Sense!

There may be pieces of a puzzle laying around in front of you and you don’t even know they are pieces of a puzzle that if put together make a bigger picture.

Years ago we had a locksmith come and do some work.

This locksmith is a big man with a beard. By his attire he prefers to give the image of a Hell’s Angel kind of guy. He wears a lot of leather kind of stuff, rings, Celtic crosses dangling around his neck, and I forgot if he sports any tattoos or not.

He reminded me of the bearded cyclist that was a reoccurring character in the soap opera “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman”.

His locksmith shop is on a little driveway behind the local Dairy Queen. I forgot why, but one time I had to go by his shop to pick up something or maybe to have a key made and the shop had little pieces of junk all over the inside – I don’t see how he could find anything, but he did with no problem. The building looks to be about 8 feet by 14 feet. Mostly there is a counter and a old couch. A small black and white tv was on the counter and he and an elderly lady, probably “Mama” were engrossed in a soap opera.

Not that his attire has anything to do with this posting but while he was in front of me I thought I would describe him so you would a better picture.

While he was at my house doing his work he looked over across the street at Bob’s house and said something to the effect, “Your neighbor is a sorry person, we go back a long time. He owes me money” and he said it several ways over the next 20 to 30 minutes, but that was about the story. He didn’t give any details.

That was years ago.

Now, lets leap to the present. Bob is in prison until December.

I was out working in the yard a day or two ago, picking up litter and debris that found its way from across the street to our yard. If I see a McDonald’s milk shake cup in their yard one day, I can count on picking it up out of my yard in a day or so. I could just go ahead and get it out of the way and go across the street with a sack and police their yard but I prefer that that to do it the way we do it now.

A pickup truck drove up in their driveway and blew the horn. The daughter came out and hollered, “Joe’s not here! He is having to work today!”

“Where at?”

“Behind the Dairy Queen – he is doing some work for grandpa.”

Ahah! So Joe’s grandfather owns the land behind the Dairy Queen – which is the property the locksmith is/was on. Bob could have easily been on the property helping somehow and hit the locksmith for a loan or did some kind of shady business deal with him. I don’t know the details, but you can bet there were details.