The Leaf Blower

Leaf-Blower

Minnie, an outspoken sixtyish widow, rents half of a duplex from Herman, a seventyish widower who occupies the other half. Over time, their landlord-tenant relationship has evolved into a probative friendship, albeit at times spirited when Minnie is ill-tempered as she surely is this morning.

“What the hell are you doing, Herman? That bloody machine scared the crap out of me this morning!”

“It was after seven when I started, Minnie. You’re usually up by then.”

“Well, I wasn’t up this morning. I’m still shaking!”

“Haven’t you seen one of these before, Minnie? It’s a leaf blower. It’s the weapon of choice for dealing with bothersome leaves that clutter our lawns and choke our drains.”

“Of course I’ve seen them, you dunderhead! But I never thought an erstwhile sane person would bring one onto a small property like this. It’s like using dynamite to demolish a doghouse.

“It’s the finest in horticultural technology, Minnie. It blows leaves into little piles.”

“Too bad it blew the common sense straight out of your earhole. It’s a shrieking, stinking assault against the senses.”

“It’s fast!”

“It’s a vulgarity. Have you even given a thought to the resources used to build it? The fuel it consumes? The stench of its exhaust? And the racket? All unnecessary. You’re depraved to use it!”

“It’s not that bad, Minnie.”

“It’s worse than bad, you reprobate! It’s an abhorrent contraption that we got along without for ages. Who was the diabolical misanthrope who invented that thing, anyway?”

“No idea. Coffee, Minnie?” he inquired, knowing that she was always well disposed to a morning brew and, in fact, that in this circumstance it was probably the only thing that might mollify her.

“Sure, coffee. Take advantage of my congeniality and make everything okay with a cup of coffee!” Minnie replied, as she coughed and gave wide berth to Herman’s new machine. “You’re a nefarious monster for inflicting that aberration on the neighborhood.”

“So you don’t like it?” He tried not to smirk, but failed. Minnie noticed.

“Screw you, Herman, and screw that mechanical abomination as well!”

Minnie scowled. Herman sighed. Coffee perked.