The Softer Side of Tallahassee

I placed my meter about fifty feet from the centerline of Orange Avenue, and proceeded to measure noise levels. Roughly fifteen minutes later, I made brief eye contact with the two inmates of the Leon County Jail road work crew as they passed me. Their job was to pick up trash, and they looked beaten. I unconsciously tried to convey respect, sympathy, and appreciation, but without pity in my brief nod. I'm pretty sure the message didn't get through.

Finding people at home during a weekday is not easy, and my normal tactic of starting my work and being friendly if the residents return before I leave is not as safe in Florida as it is in California. So when I saw two people sitting in a yard, I was grateful.
Their sign along the edge of the highway read "Home Grown Tomatoes." It soon became clear that the reason these two were actually at work after all. They were very nice, trusting, and interested in what I was doing. They even offered me a chair. They said, "If you need to come back, just go ahead and do what you need to. Don't matter if we're not here." How nice.

I pulled up in the driveway of the house I wanted to conduct a measurement at, got out, and walked up to the door. When I rang the doorbell and then knocked, no one answered; this is common. As I was driving away, I glanced back at the house, and saw the owner. I quickly got out, walked over, and gave her my spiel. She was skeptical, but unlike most of the people I've encountered here, her apprehension did not fade. I tried to tell her that I did not need to be there if it made her uncomfortable, but she was internally torn between (perceived) civic duty and personal safety: "I don't want to be an uncooperative resident, but whatever you need to do, you can do it outside the gate. Too many home invasions these days." She watched me count traffic for five solid minutes, then went inside "to call the City." I feel bad, like something really crappy must have happened to her or someone in her family in the past. Not that I want her to drop her guard completely and become foolishly vulnerable again, but I hope the fact that she trusted me and nothing bad came of it will somewhat restore her faith in the common person.

Resident #1 from yesterday came through with that Xerox. Turns out, it was a pamphlet for the hearing test booth his brother designed. Less dorky, but still. He also offered to show me around Tallahassee the next time I was in town; I am pretty sure he thinks this is the best place in the world to live. He was definitely lonely, and possibly a little bit gay.

It was at this point it began raining, preventing me from completing my last two measurements. This forced me to stay in town through the weekend, and the fact that I have posted more than once in less than a week is directly traceable to this situation. Sigh.

While waiting for the rain to clear (it didn't), I happened into The Bookshelf, which was billed as a used bookstore / comic bookstore. They might want to reconsider the emphasis, because all those old books (mostly romance novels and westerns) seemed to be getting in the way of all the awesome comics & paraphernalia. Anyway, that's where I found the two coolest things ever, and was forced to pick one. I can't tell you what they are now, because the one I got is a "Sorry I went away on business" gift for A. Anyway, by the time I left, I had the gist of the guy behind the counter's life story, particularly in regards to him working at this, his dad's store, while raising his 2-year-old kid. Also, he thinks Superman rules.