Yesterday the guy bringing dirt for the patio area around the pool (we have to build up some of the surface since we have a gentle slop in the yard), made a lot of trips back and forth from the dirt pile to our house. Around 6:30 he was making a drop and saw us walking around our garden. We were holding beers and dump truck guy told us that was no fair that he still had work to do.
Last night around 10 when he finished the last load, the three of us drank beer and chatted for about a half hour. I gave him extra points for picking the Foster’s over the Bud. I think I got extra points from him for being a native Mechanicsville girl. I guess it’s hard to find people anymore who are actually from this area.
Dump truck guy is a pretty interesting guy who used to be in the technology business and had a bad experience with his business partner who was located in Connecticut. All eerily similar to the bad experience the better-half had with his partner some years ago, who was also from Connecticut.
My first roommate in college was from Connecticut. I’ve still never met anyone from there that I like.
What, no Genny Cream Ale? After a few loads of fill dirt, what self repecting dump truck driver would reach for a Fosters?
We’re out of the cream ale. Shocking!