I completely forgot yesterday was a Monday, so here we are today, with a little story from my morning.
As I was preparing to leave work today, an small elderly man comes in with a large woven basket. I assumed he was there to rent or return a car, as people tend to do at my place of employment, but no…he truly had no business with us. He explained he had just come to give us some tomatoes.
I looked at work-Mark for some sort of clue: was this a usual occurrence? Had we rented to this man before? Was this a thank you of some kind? Work-Mark gave no indication of anything other than to say “oh yes, I think I remember you,” and then suddenly the man was handing us tomatoes. Work-Mark went in back to get a box for them, and the old man asked if I enjoyed pears. I replied that I do, because they are actually my favorite handheld fruit. This gentleman starts talking about a pear tree that I assume he has in the garden with the tomato plants. He then tells us the tomato plants came over from Italy, so they are Italian tomatoes (he himself had a heavy Italian accent, and I imagined him carrying tomato seeds in his pockets when he immigrated.) Then he left, and I went about finishing my day, and five minutes later he was back again with his basket, now full of pears. Work-Mark then tells me there is a pear tree on the Avis property, and this man was aware of it, apparently, so he picked me some pears.
I thanked him, and wished him a nice day, and when he left, I turned to work-Mark with my questions, for which he had few answers. Apparently, he is just an old man who lives on a farm and drives around handing out his produce. I watched as this tiny elder climbed into the biggest Ford pickup I have ever seen and wondered what the hell just happened. I watched him drive away, holding my box of produce.
I took some to my aunt and my grandma, and saved some for my dad, and tonight home-Mark gets a BLT for dinner with pears for dessert. And I get a little story for my blog.