Husband and Katie are standing in the driveway near the Jeep. A massive Budget truck the size of several small states is in front of their house. The carpet men are working in the background, the morning is crisp. Ryker is doing nothing in the car because he still can't sniff out the crazies for us. A woman in a Ford Explorer pulls into their isolated dead end street and turns around in front of their house. Husband and Katie watch in surprise. No one pulls into their isolated dead end street and turns around in front of their house.
A kind appearing middle aged woman with gray-blonde hair and a clean outfit climbs out of the drivers seat. She waves and heads towards their pile of garbage a few feet away.
Woman: Hey! How are ya! Moving, huh?
Husband: (in a somewhat perplexed voice that seems to ask who-is-this-woman?): Yep. Heading out soon.
Woman: Oh, that's great. Going out of state?
The Woman begins to sift through their jettisoned cardboard box. She lifts up a discarded bag of packing peanuts to see what's underneath as the conversation continues.
Husband, with several blinks of doubt: North Carolina.
Woman: Oh, that's great. You must be military?
Husband (With his head tilted to the side as she lifts up a see-through bag of garbage and rotates it to peer through the contents.) : Yep.
Woman: My husband was in the military, all that moving! Definitely not fun.
Katie: Looks like it is for some.
(Just kidding, Katie didn't really say that. She just stared and blinked in confusion as the woman continued to pick apart the garbage pile.) Husband casts Katie a look that asks is-this-woman-really-making-casual-conversation-while-sifting-through-our-garbage-pile? and then walks to do something in Rhode Island, I mean, the Budget Truck. The woman sets aside a few more piles of packing peanuts and lets out an exclamation.
Woman: Phew! My exploror stinks.
Katie (with her hands in her pockets as she makes herself comfortable on realizing the woman is there to stay.): Oh no, that gasoline smell is from the lawnmower box there. Yep, that one. Gas spilled from it. Apparently the tank wasn't as empty as we thought. We went ahead and mixed it with laundry detergent.
Woman, laughing in reassurance and revealing the fact that she doesn't know laundry detergent and gasoline are incredibly explosive: Oh good! (Picks up another bag of trash to inspect through.) What a relief! Thought it was my car!
Katie: Oh no, your car is safe. (Our garbage isn't, however.)
The woman makes a little more small talk, but dismayed by the overwhelming power of gasoline that pours from the rest of the filth, eventually straightens up in defeat.
Woman, with a friendly wave: Well good luck to y'all! And travel safe!
The woman drives off in her Explorer to make more friends and Katie walks away to the snicker of the carpet men.
Wow! Some lady. I'm sure you were real happy to move out of the neighborhood after that experience.
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