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I stepped out of my delivery van and walked up a driveway with an envelope. An older woman with white hair and a cane answered the door, and as she took the envelope she said "Say, young man, would you mind taking out my trash? My hands hurt me so."
"Well, okay," I said, feeling good about helping someone out.
I carried her trashcan down her 200 foot long driveway. I started toward my van but heard her cry out.
"YOUNG MAN!"
"Yes?"
She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled "WOULD YOU MIND BRINGING MY MAIL? MY FEET HURT."
I walked toward her mailbox.
"OH! MY PUG IS LOOSE! HELP ME, YOUNG MAN, HELP ME!"
A black pug puppy shot down her driveway and past me. "OH, MY BABY IS GETTING AWAY FROM ME! CLEOPATRA! COME BACK!"
I chased the pug, but every time I was close she darted off in another direction. It started to rain. Finally, I cornered her.
"OH! THANK YOU! LET ME BRING YOU A CAN OF SODA. OH, WOULD YOU MIND SHUTTING MY WINDOWS! THE RAIN WILL GET INSIDE!"
Judas Priest -- I'm exhausted! I shut her windows, and she poked a can of New Coke into my ribs. When did they last make New Coke? I felt like a heel, but I
just couldn't take it.
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