I formerly resided at 128 East 5th Street in a small town.
As it turned out, the resident at 128 West 5th Street was a deadbeat and delinquent on his water bill.
When I returned home from work one evening there was no water. I called the water department.
“I don’t have any water at my house.” I told the clerk.
I went through the particulars, gave name, address. “Uh-oh,” the clerk said. “I think I know what happened.”
By that time, I could barely stand the suspense. “What is it? What happened?”
“Your address got mixed up,” She said. “What do you mean–mixed up? I haven’t gone anywhere.”
The next part was befitting the town of Mayberry and the Andy Griffith Show.
“The resident at 128 W. 5th, was supposed to have his water turned off, not 128 E. 5th.”
“Well, I need water–when can you turn it back on?” I pleaded.
“I don’t know,” She answered. “Lefty’s gone fishing. I don’t know when he’ll be back”
In this one-horse town, Lefty was the water department.
I couldn’t wait for the conclusion of Lefty’s angling exploits. My landlord and I turned the water back on. I don’t think Lefty ever knew or cared.
itinerantneerdowell 