I was heading down to retrieve the laundry from the dryer when I heard a pop-pop-pop-pop-pop coming from my general South.
When I got back upstairs with my laundry, I called the police non-emergency number just to let them know.
I suppose it's probably a bad sign when you treat what most likely was gunfire as an everyday occurrence -- though, actually, this is only the second recent time I've heard it.
If I, as a formally unattached female, were to send a wallet-sized photo of myself to a gentleman who had previously publicly expressed a disinterest in me, I would be acting forward and even rude. A single wallet-sized photo tends to carry the implication "and I want you to carry this photo around with you".
However, if I send the same photo to the same gentleman, but with accompanying photos on themes of "a photo of us being goofy together that he did not have before" and "a photo of us and another friend" and "Cute Nephew Moment", with a friendly note making reference to our long-established status as best friends ... perfectly acceptable, and even a touching gesture.
Whether he chooses to carry the small photo of me around with him or not -- that's his business. I don't need to know about it.
I know how to be polite like a muscular man, it seems. Even though I would have acceptably not helped, I got Dad's manners.
There was a man driving an old car stalled not quite pulled in to the service station. Girls are not expected to offer help.
It is strange that a man of little strength is expected to use same more than a woman with more. But. Spiderman says. Dad too.
Late. As usual. I am not feeling much like a success here. Hello, OC!Dolores. silly invading characters.
I am the captain of the carpet ship.