Neighborhood hardware store

Not wanting to contribute to the problem of deteriorating housing stock, I fixed things in my house as money allowed. Because I was in graduate school and worked part time, money didn’t allow much. But some landscape edging in the yard would help and I could afford that.

One weekday on my day off, I stopped by the local hardware store to look at lawn edging. I was the only customer and the white woman who owned the store with her husband was behind the counter. They were always chatty and helpful when I went in for my small purchases and I liked this store. She showed me lawn edging, but the stuff I needed was not in stock. Not a problem, she would order it for me. As was the habit of everyone in the neighborhood, we immediately fell into a conversation about the neighborhood as she wrote out an order form.

“The blacks come in here and I can’t read them. The police patrol this intersection more now. They stop in here and tell us to assume that every young black man who comes in here has a gun.” She looked disgusted. “Every young black man who comes in here is packing a gun.”

“I don’t think so,” I protested.

“It’s what the police say, they should know,” she retorted.