That was unexpected

I  was feeling pretty low the other day — for valid reasons, I guess, but the persistent Portland grey wasn’t helping.

“Can I ask you something?”

A man was parked half in the street, leaning toward the passenger side of his rattling truck to call to me, the only person walking down the street. I came closer, but not much.

“I won’t bite.”

I’m trying to be more open to strangers, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I stepped one half step closer, wary of what would come next.

“I only have one leg. Do you see those balloons?”

I was ready for a couple of statements or questions, but not those two, together.

“Right in front of my truck. I don’t want them to cause an accident.”

On the curb, between two parked cars, was a bunch of about ten green balloons tied together in a bundle. “I see it.” I grabbed them and smiled at the driver.

“Do you you want them?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ll pop them and toss them,” I offered.

“Will they fit in the window?”

I gently fed the balloons through the open passenger window. He smiled.

“Thank you!”

So I walked on my way down the street. About a block later the man with one leg drove back by in his clattering pickup, cab half full of green balloons.

I threw my head back and laughed.

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