There’s this guy who owns two or three houses on the street where I’m living who spends hours mowing and leaf blowing every couple of days. He has the leaf blower strapped to his back while he pushes the mower around, and he’ll pull it out to blow at things every five minutes or so. I watched him chase a dozen small leaves down his driveway this morning.
He’ll stand in the middle of the street blowing at the pavement, pushing more tiny leaves down the block. Everything flies up in the air, of course, and then lands again. I can see it happening from my window.
I wouldn't care if he was sweeping. He could sweep all day long and I wouldn't be concerned. It’s just the leaf blower drones on and on and on.
He wears protective headphones, so he knows it’s loud. He knows it’s annoying. He also wears a mask, protecting himself from all the dust he’s kicking up that the rest of us have to deal with.
Someone was always getting their lawn mowed on sunny days when I lived in the suburban house. Sometimes it was our yard.
Or, rather, my boyfriend’s yard. I was mistaken, of course, to ever think of it as my yard.
A bunch of guys would show up with edgers and ride-on mowers and zip around the place for half an hour. It was pretty exciting. I was always amazed and delighted by how fast they were.
This guy has a few tiny patches of grass and he’s never finished.
What is he trying to avoid? What would he have to be doing if he wasn’t cocooned in his headphones? What does he not want to talk about?