Lloyd, a legendary neighbour
Loving thy neighbour, or not
It was the summer of my first year at university and I was moving into my first flat, with five friends.
We anticipated much joy and good times ahead of us.
The day we moved in to our flat was sunny and the cicadas were singing their summer anthem. Before we could even get the first couch moved into the house our new neighbour Lloyd grumpily popped his head over the fence.
"Students are you?" he said in a foul temper. "I guess you're going to be partying!"
"No, of course not,'' we replied, not us. ''We wouldn't do that."
So we had a party that weekend.
We figured we had two choices, either we put up with a grumpy neighbour for the rest of the tenancy, or we could throw out an olive branch. After much deliberation we decided the best thing to do was to invite Lloyd around for a sausage and a beer.
To our surprise, Lloyd showed up that saturday at about 4.30. He made small talk, had a drink and something to eat and left us to our own devices.
You wouldn't believe it but the good-natured man that he was, he then took our rubbish out for six months. When his recycling bin was full he would quietly use ours. We would all exchange pleasantries over the fence until one day he wasn't there anymore. We later heard that he had died of a heart attack.
Thank you for putting out our rubbish, Lloyd, and thank you for bridging the gap between the young and the old.
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