Three men and Mbeki. Time and a half on a holiday Friday.
They were kind to me in a way that I was not expecting and that I did not handle well.
At about ten o’clock, one of them — a young guy, maybe twenty-five, named Walt — came through the kitchen carrying one end of the dining table, and he stopped and said:
“Ma’am, you want us to leave you anything to sit on?”
And I said no, I was going to my friend’s house.
And he said: “You want us to leave you the coffee thing? For the morning?”
And I said: “No, son. Especially not the coffee thing.”
And he laughed so hard he had to set the table down.
They carried thirteen categories of furniture out of that house and put it in a storage unit on Thomas Road that my nephew paid the first month on and that I have paid for every month since.
