The neighborhood - new friend

I'd like to begin a series of posts about my neighborhood. This is post numero uno.

Last saturday I was surveying our front yard, trying to figure out what I needed to do to make it less ghetto. Even though we live in the ghetto (in the ghettooo)it doesn't have to feel like it all the time. Now when I say "front yard" what I'm referring to is the 8' x 8' patch of "grass" that is home to a pathetic little tree, 2 trash cans, one recycling bin, and some precariously placed large rocks. It's very sad. This patch was covered with trash, tons of leaves, and sticks and things. I decided that something must be done, so I searched the house for a rake. Not finding one, I was relegated to the plastic bag method - use plastic bags as gloves to scoop up the mucky. Me being the silly froofy girl that I am, I didn't want to get any worms or buggies on my hands, so I armed myself with 2 old grocery bags, one large hefty yard bag, and set out in my front yard to clean up.

I got as far as my front step when my next-door neighbor decided to initiate a little conversation. He snickered at my attempt at yard debris cleaning and offered to help. Oh, no - it's ok. I've got these bags. I'm fine. Without another question he announced he was going to get his rake and help me. Oh god help us all.

Thus began the new friendship of Gnomie and her neighbor, D. He is an urban gentleman, a rare find in this day and age. He has the ghetto fabulousness, but he is sweet and funny, too. We talked about nothing in particular while I held the large Hefty bag and he raked the square of leaves and trash. During this 10 minute escapade, I deciphered the following information out of him:
1. He is living next door with his aunt (he is in his mid-thirties).
2. He's only living there for a "quick minute" (whatever the hell that means).
3. He likes to go for "morning jogs".
4. He takes care of his women.

Look, maybe I ask a lot of pointed questions or something, but I couldn't get any real info out of him. He's the kind of person where you can talk to him for days and days and leave thinking what the hell did we just talk about anyway? We definitely talked about the weather. We discussed our mutual distaste for G Dubya. We discussed plants. BOE-RING.

So D was layin on the flirt pretty hard during this 10 minute tryst. Also I should point out that foodstuffs boy, now designated - R1 - was inside talking on the phone while I was outside cleaning. R1 heard me and D talking outside and came to check out the situation. He stood at the door like Big Brother, checking things out. D looked up and saw him standing at the door.
D -Oh is that your husband?
J - Noooooooo. No.
D - Oh, your boyfriend?
J -(Relunctantly) Um, yes. He is. (anyone who knows me knows that I HATE the boyfriend designation. But how do you explain this to an urban gentleman?)
D - So, not your husband then, huh.
J - No. And don't let him hear you say husband. Boys are scared of that sort of thing.
D - I ain't scared of that sort of thing. You need a real man to step up. A strong man. Someone to take care of you. I take care of my women.
J - Good. That's, uhhhh, good.

As a direct result of this intense 10 minute bonding period, D and I are great friends now. We chat in the morning when I'm leaving for work and he greets me when I come home. He's a front porch lounger, and my personal welcome wagon. He's like a little puppy - always excited to see me. I can always count on D. I just wish I could tell you what his real name is because it just makes his character that much better.