Apr 17

When Rach and I first came to look at the house we now live in, the previous tenants were in the process of moving out. We had arranged to meet the property manager, but arrived early, so we parked in the cul-de-sac and sat waiting in our car.

The house sits at the top of a short, steep driveway, probably about 20 metres from the road. The tenants were busily loading stuff into their car, which was parked in the carport, right next to the house. They did a few trips back and forth, lugging boxes and bags, as well as a huge armchair, which they stuffed into their little hatchback.

The husband then got into the car and reversed down the driveway. When he got to the street, however, he didn’t turn left and head off down the hill. Instead he made a 180 degree turn and pulled up alongside the kerb at the end of the cul-de-sac. He then got out and proceeded to unload the contents of the car on to the nature strip.

We sat watching, confused, until it dawned on us that this was the junk they were putting out for council collection. Rather than carry all the items down the driveway, they had packed the car, driven out onto the street, and then unpacked it.

We soon met the couple in question, and they were most friendly. They were also quite large, in their fifties, and on the fast track to morbid obesity. We understood then why they chose not to risk coronary failure by making unncessary journeys up and down the driveway.

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