One man’s junk is another man’s road hazard
A while back, a friend called and asked me if I could take his truck and make a delivery or two for him since he had gotten hurt. Of course, I said yes. I picked up a load of ice cream and proceeded to the two delivery points.
After running about 45 miles or so, I saw something sitting in the travel lane. I swerved to avoid it and noticed that it was a “love” seat. Fortunately, no one was behind me. I called the highway patrol dispatcher on my cell phone and told her about the furniture. The dispatcher asked what kind of “love” seat it was. I told her that it could be a La-Z-Boy, I wasn’t sure, but it was definitely sitting in the middle of the right travel lane.
I stopped my truck. To my surprise a highway patrol officer arrived in less than five minutes. We discussed the future of the piece of furniture as we moved it to the side of the road. The piece was not badly damaged, so someone could have had a nice “love” seat.
After finishing the run without further incident, I rode back by the scene of the “crime,” so to speak, and noticed the seat was gone. I’ve always wondered where the wayward “love” seat had wandered off to.
Dear Doctor Who,
I’ll let you in on a little secret. The world is full of mysterious scavenger elves who seemingly come out of nowhere, usually in the middle of the night, and make off with discarded items left on the curb, by the side of the road, or, in your case, in the middle of the road. I used to live in New York City (don’t hold it against me) where I could haul just about any old piece of junk out to the curb and be assured that it would be magically gone by the crack of dawn.
Like you, I always wondered where my junk went. I adhere to the philosophy that one man’s junk is another man’s treasure. As for your mysterious love seat, I’d like to think that some romantic soul came by, picked it up and gave it a good home, where it continues to serve its original purpose—providing a “seat” for “lovers.”
Before we get all mushy, how about that dispatcher? A piece of furniture ends up in the middle of the road and she wants to know what brand it is, like that would make a difference. Who knows, maybe she’s one of those mysterious scavenger elves.
Murphy and Lucky Dog