The Junk Man

When we bought the house, it had burglar bars on the front door, back door, and one front window.  They made me feel like an inmate. 

Ron and I, wisely, concluded if a bad guy wanted to get in he'd get in one of the unprotected windows.  Unless we wanted, and could afford, burglar bars on every window we'd be unprotected. 

Let's talk about fire deaths, too.  If the house is on fire you can't get out the window, you're going to die a gruesome death.  Charley here (not the one from Broken) has a good page on the subject:  http://www.locksmithcharley.com/firesafety.html

So, I would have to have CUSTOM special things installed, and then if someone really wanted to get in they could just wait until we got home.  Put a gun to Ron's head, you get the idea. 

Not that burglars find much of interest in my house.  In fact, I imagine the last ones were pretty pissed. 

Sorry, I'm rambling.  The point:  Ron and I took the burglar bars off the front door of the house.  I dragged them out to the curb, and before I even got back to the house, here comes a junk man. 

This one was well dressed, in a very nice SUV.  He was loading it into the back when I "caught" him.  He started to apologize but I just told him "Wait a minute and I'll get the other piece"  He waited with the car running as I brought out the front window piece.  He was thrilled and I had the junk off my hands. 

I love the junk men. 

We have the old Latino guy who likes to trash-pick.  Somehow I ended up consenting to the storage of the "harvested" items in front side yard (before the gate).  I find all kinds of things, but he always picks them up in a few hours.  Ron and call him Papi.  Ron saves his aluminum cans in a bag for Papi.  Papi knows a trash bag on the front porch means cans.  He's a nice guy.  I like him.  I'm happy we can help him out. 

He must be a horrific hoarder, though. 

My old vacuum died - exploded.  Thanks to a friend I was able to get another one, a nice basic starter model.  At the end of the day, it's just the 2 of us and a small house. 

What to do with the old one?  I put it by the curb, and sure enough, here comes the junk man.  He threw it in the back of the truck and ran off like he stole it.  I found that hysterical. 

I wanted him to take it, but he acted like I didn't. 

The only thing the guys haven't taken - a floor lamp.  It works, it's on right now, about a foot away from me, but they didn't touch it for a week.  Then I felt sorry for it and brought it back home.  I found a better spot for it and we're both happy now. 

I think, if Ron and I had to move, that's one of the big things I'd miss, other than my house and yard.  The junk guys.  I can put anything out and they take it. 

I just worry about their wives, and hoarding.  I may see my stuff one day on an episode of Hoarders.