JJ, Benny and I hustle along on our morning walk. We pass a beautifully landscaped home. I do not have a beautifully landscaped home. I barely keep the blackberries at bay and wrestle with the morning glory for dominance over my garden. I admire the picture of order before me. Until I notice the hub cap sitting on the bank. This hub cap just doesn’t fit in the well ordered green and flowery expanse. I wonder if its placement is planned.
You just paid the landscaper for your beautiful new yard. Everything is exactly how you imagined. You awake the next morning to find a hub cap on your parking strip. Strange, you didn’t hear any loud noises during the night, like a car hitting a huge pothole. There are no potholes on your street anyway. You walk up and down your street but no cars are missing hubcaps. A neat nick you move the hubcap off your parking strip and set it on your bank. The owner will come by and see it, won’t they. It sticks out like a sore thumb.
Danny hates delivering pizzas but it’s the only job right now which fits his college schedule. Danny curses under his breath as he’s out of his comfort zone in the Bryant neighborhood. He delivers to the frat houses at the U mostly. He flies over a dip in the road and the pizza box jumps 6 inches off the seat when the little Honda comes back down. Why these rich people can’t fix their streets, he wonders. He finds the house and hightails it back to the pizza joint. When he arrives at That Pizza Joint, he says “Hey” to Timmy. And Timmy says, “what happened to your hubcap, dude?” Danny curses those rich Bryant pizza lovers who didn’t tip him much better than the frat boys. He must keep delivering tonight and he’s got an early class tomorrow. There is no time to troll that neighborhood for a hub cap.
Will Danny ever come back for his hubcap? Are you destined to keep that eye sore on your bank? What do you think?