Bobby Jones stops by the house every couple of weeks to see if we need any work done around the house. He drives a sky blue beat up Nissan pick up truck from the 80's with an orange ladder in the back. He's got his brother in the cab with him, but he "don't talk much". Real nice guy. Life has been hard on him, you can tell by the leathery skin, rough voice and patchy clothes.
I have a real soft spot in my heart for people like this. Hard working men and women trying to make a decent, honest dollar the right way. So we pay him and his silent brother to clean out our gutters, rake the leaves, etc.
Today it's cold and raining outside and I heard his truck pull up. I met him at the door as to avoid the shrill pitch of the doorbell, which he always rings, as to not wake my baby up.
I greet him with a "Hello, sir!" and he smiled his toothless smile. Told him we didn't have any work for him this weekend (which was not a lie, leaves are raked, gutters are cleaned, and I'm broke). Asked him to come around next weekend, hopefully he can do something for us then. I can tell by the expression on his face it has not been a good day for work and it literally breaks my heart. He asks me if I know anyone else in the neighborhood that needs some work done and I have to tell him no again. Then I smile and tell him to have a good day.
I don't know him or really anything about him. I don't know why he doesn't have a "real" job or what he uses his money on or if he files taxes. It's none of my business really.
All I know is that he works hard, earns an honest dollar and he earns my respect.