Mr. Foreman.

I walked around to the trunk, and unloaded my suitcase. No sooner had I closed it than I heard another door open. I looked, and noticed it was the door to the house. Suitcase in hand, I went back around the car to greet whoever had just exited.

The first thing I noticed was that it (sadly) was not one of the females coming to see me; It was definitely a man. What little hair he had was brown. He appeared to be wearing a black T-shirt that read, "Pink Floyd 1967" in tie-dye letters. Looking again at his face, I knew he was old enough to have perhaps been at a concert that year. I looked down again, and noticed he also wore a pair of khaki shorts and strapped sandals.

As my face started upwards again, I noticed he had both hands out. Guessing, I shook the right one.

"Glad you could make it, John!" he said, shaking my hand strongly.

"I got lost a few times, but I made it!" I said, attempting to return the strong shake with one of my own.

"Clearly!" he said.

He then stopped shaking hands, but I noticed he left the other hand out between us. I looked between his face and hand several times, unsure what he wanted.

"May I take your luggage?" he finally asked.

"Uhhh... No thanks," I said. "Besides, I thought you invited me out here to help you do some work on this house."