Life is weird sometimes
Last Thursday, Craig and I bought a used dishwasher on eBay. On Sunday, I called the seller to arrange pick-up in New Jersey for today at 6 p.m. Turns out the man is a retired diesel mechanic for the post office, and his wife worked there as well. We chatted for a bit (his wife was in the hospital with a possible mini-stroke) and I told him we'd see him when we picked it up.
So today, Craig and I went with my mom in her van to go pick it up. We get to the house, and the couple was standing at their chain link fence gate, waving at us. The wife is apparently home from the hospital. We handed over a bunch of flowers that we brought for the wife, as I thought she might be in the hospital. Craig and I went into the basement to get the dishwasher, and he and Ferdinand brought it up the stairs and loaded it into the van while I talked with the wife. Then we left.
Oh, and the weird part? The wife is a retired nurse who was forced into retirement because she has amnesia which was the result of a car accident. She seems to have some kind of short-term memory problem, judging from her conversation. The husband, who was probably in his early sixties, very unshaven, balding, long hair, looked a lot like Ben Franklin, smoking a cigarillo. He was wearing red nail polish, a very flowery-print blouse, spangled jeans. With breasts. I'm not unworldly nor do I have issues with people who gender-identify off the beaten track, but this was a just bit surreal. I have to say that if I had been him, I might have worried that a total stranger coming to pick up a dishwasher might not be understanding. I'm not advocating hiding or being untrue to oneself, but hate crimes happen because people are assholes. How did he know I wasn't going to be an asshole?
So today, Craig and I went with my mom in her van to go pick it up. We get to the house, and the couple was standing at their chain link fence gate, waving at us. The wife is apparently home from the hospital. We handed over a bunch of flowers that we brought for the wife, as I thought she might be in the hospital. Craig and I went into the basement to get the dishwasher, and he and Ferdinand brought it up the stairs and loaded it into the van while I talked with the wife. Then we left.
Oh, and the weird part? The wife is a retired nurse who was forced into retirement because she has amnesia which was the result of a car accident. She seems to have some kind of short-term memory problem, judging from her conversation. The husband, who was probably in his early sixties, very unshaven, balding, long hair, looked a lot like Ben Franklin, smoking a cigarillo. He was wearing red nail polish, a very flowery-print blouse, spangled jeans. With breasts. I'm not unworldly nor do I have issues with people who gender-identify off the beaten track, but this was a just bit surreal. I have to say that if I had been him, I might have worried that a total stranger coming to pick up a dishwasher might not be understanding. I'm not advocating hiding or being untrue to oneself, but hate crimes happen because people are assholes. How did he know I wasn't going to be an asshole?