Well it was bound to happen. It’s just a shame that I am sure my neighbour across the street won’t ever read my thanks to him, even though I did thank him in person as well. Confused yet?

Let me explain then. It’s been one of “those” days. You know the kind. The Monday where nothing goes quite right, where amazingly warm weather is spoiled by high winds and a sense of a storm coming? The kind of day where you are trying to solve a server problem, recover a hard drive and the power goes out 3 times in an hour? You know that kind?

So by 7pm I was ready to be home, even though I still had a shit load of remote work to do. Yes a shit load…nothing family safe about that statement, though fascinating to my buddy Bruce for some reason. A remote shit disturber. I’m sure many on Facebook would agree with that! Anyway, where was I? (other than pondering a beer). So to top the day off, after posting the story about the posts for the parking finally being up…what do I find when I get home? A pick up truck I’ve never seen on the street before, parked dead centre of them, no permit in the window.

Grumble. Grouch. Swear. Curse. Ponder the inequities of life. Curse humanity for being boorish and stupid. Grouse at self for over reacting. Then curse some more when you realize the closest parking spot is ten houses away!

Now this is when Shan would have said I am too patient, as I would have given it a bit before calling the City…but thankfully it never came to that…as my neighbour across the street restored my faith a bit.

We don’t have too much of a relationship with those neighbours, an older couple that we joke are the neighbourhood spies. He’s quite pleasant, she’s a bit…well…let’s say she can’t park worth a crap and leave it at that. Playing car jockey for best spot with her was fun for a long time before I think he stepped in after one night last fall. We’d been crossing the street to the car late one evening when my right foot decided it didn’t want to lift. I went down, Shan tried to catch me, and I almost dislocated her arm as I did a lovely pirouette to the ground without injuring myself too badly. Problem was, I was in the middle of the street and Shan couldn’t help me up on her own. Before I knew it, this older gentleman was there. I still don’t know his name actually, which is something I need to correct. He braced himself and helped lift and made sure I was steady. From that night on we’ve never had to jostle with them for a spot, even though they have a disabled permit of their own.

So tonight as I grumbled, he raced over (faster than I can move and I have to be close to half his age). In his thick accent he told me to wait, he’d seen the driver go into a house and he’d “call on him”. With in five minutes, the truck was gone, with nary a word from the driver. My neighbour had a very satisfied grin on his face though as he watched me park, sitting on his front porch perch, the wind forcing a comb over of his hair I’d normally make a quip about.

I won’t do that though. We don’t know each other’s names…and I know they are trying to sell their house, so I will miss them when they are gone. I will thank him one more time before then and properly introduce myself to him. Thanks for turning around a crap day by helping out someone in need when you didn’t have to.

Despite all my griping about people and how they sometimes treat we “gimps” (yes I said it)…there are far more who help in the smallest ways who don’t get the credit they deserve. Most of them are anonymous…but there are many who help regularly that deserve a lot of credit.

After a beer or three…and some sleep…I might even embarrass a few of them with thanks later.

Here’s to you neighbour.