Drums

This is a story from months ago, but I never got it into the blog, so here:

Late September.
Graham Avenue.
10:00 p.m.

I'm walking home and am almost to my apartment when I see a man lugging boxes and furniture from his doorway to the curb.  He mumbles something and I realize he's talking to me.

(What I think he says:) "D'you want some drugs?"
Me:  "Uh, me? Oh, no - I don't do drugs..."

He looks at me oddly for a moment.  I realize he's carrying a set of conga drums past the door.  OH!  Drums.  Drums.  Yeah, huhh.

Him:  "You sure you don't want 'em?  Th'old lady's makin' me throw all my toys out."
Me: "Drums!  Yes.  Yes, please.  I actually play drums.  Wow, really?  You're just giving them away?? I'd love them, thank you so much!"

And that's how I scored free congas.  I'm trying to be less suspicious of my neighbors.