We have a neighbor, Brian who picks up trash, that’s his thing. The Help, my lovely spouse, has found his thing, weeds. For some reason we bought a weed whacker, and so the Help has decided it is his duty to go out and whack weeds. Sometimes he picks up trash, because there is more than enough trash that is thrown and blown in for one person.
The Help sometimes likes to tell me of his adventures as Weedwhackerman. He says picking up trash and cleaning out storm drains choked with weeds is like urban archeology. He noticed the preferred cigarette that litterbugs like to litter the neighborhood with are Newports. Once he mentioned that, I began to notice Newport wrappers and empty boxes all over Shaw.
In his guise as Weedwhackerman, (hat, shades, maybe a dust mask) he meets all sorts of people. He’s very friendly and chatty. Being able to engage total strangers is his superpower. If you find yourself trapped in a conversation with Weedwhackerman say these magic words, “Well, I gotta go.” Then wave goodbye and walk away. If you cannot pull yourself away from Weedwhackerman, know that he’ll eventually let you go because he has to return to his alter ego (and paid job) of mild mannered librarian dude, aka the Help.