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wheel

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29 April 2015

“Good morning, Chuck, how’s everything going today.”

“Fine, but there’s still time for a major catastrophe.”

I said, “Yesterday I talked to Mather. He’s an interesting fellow.”

“Yeah, he was here when my son dealt with that crack-head. Most people avoid him because of the strange things he says.

“He thinks that because I’m in a wheelchair that I can’t defend myself, but I’m fully capable. I could stand up and beat the shit out of someone, if I had a mind too. It would kill me, but I could do it.”

Goldie barked at another dog about her size. The dog was on a leash. Its owner was waiting for the walk light. Goldie kept barking, the other dog hunched down and didn’t make a sound. Chuck said, “Goldie, shut up.” Goldie kept barking. Chuck said, “It’s okay, I know that you’re just trying to protect me.” Goldie kept barking. Chuck said, “Quiet, I divorced a woman for yapping like you’re doing now.”

“I look around and there are only three of the original buildings from when I moved here. On the corner where the restaurant is there used to be a gas station where I’d get my car serviced.”

I said, “Not too many gas stations service cars any more. I remember when I drove a ’46 Chevy. I could unscrew a plate on the floor and adjust the transmission gears with a wrench. That was back when transmissions had gears. It worked fine.”

Chuck said, “There used to be a native guy who walked around with a wrench and screwdriver in his pocket. Whenever he’d see a motorist with car trouble he’d go over and asked if they needed help. Engines were a lot simpler then, but they broke down a lot. This guy would ask, ‘If I can fix your car, will you give me twenty bucks.’ Most times he could. He’d walk away with an extra twenty in his pocket.”

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