A Friend Reaches Out at McGee's Lawnmower Repair
On the fifth day of my unemployment adventure, fear rises its ugly head. The fear rises highest in the early morning hours, just before the dawn. That's when things seem bleakest.
After strange dreams I rise, check e-mail. Some reassuring messages lift the gloom. Breakfast makes one feel better.
I'd mow the lawn but the mower is out of commission. I visit Gianni at McGee's lawn mower repair.
"I heard," he says. "That's too bad. Things are really tough here too."
I tell Gianni I think my fuel filter is clogged.
"More like the diaphragm," he says. "Bring it on in."
"I have no money," I protest.
"Don't worry about it," he says.
That's how friends take care of one another. I am just one of millions who are learning who their real friends are. I'll see more people this evening at a charity event I would have been covering for the paper. I told them of my situation and they said come anyway.
No doubt my spirits will rise, and I'll feel almost normal.
Then it's bed time and the cycle repeats itself. At least I recognize the pattern.
Oh yes, Gianni fixed the lawn mower and charged a nominal minimum for parts.
"Don't tell anyone I did this," he cautioned.
Now that's a friend.
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