We were wondering why does it look like the tree is bearing less fruit? Wondering and wondering. Then a neighbor gives us the heads up. Our gardener is stealing our avocados. He walked out with boxes (plural) is what we heard. On Tuesday, I wasn't in, Martin was out, and no one was around when Mr Nishi decided to rack avocados. Evidently he told our neighbor that we don't pick them, and they will fall on the roof and damage the roof, which would be a lie. When they fall on the roof, the slope places them on the backyard lawn. I go on the roof often and seldom are any sitting on the roof, as a matter of fact, hardly any fall at all, on the roof or not.
I told him that we use the avocados at gr/eats and not to take them when I caught him about two years ago. He gets paid to do the cheap "BLOW MOW AND GO" as coined by the gardener I interviewed in a previous issue of Giant Robot magazine. Even with the many bald spots in my lawn, I never complain. And stealing fruit like this, especially when I told him not to, bad move.
The avocado tree is a symbol of my own patience. My house and this tree are old timers, and avocados usually happen once every two years. It's a joy to have them for gr/eats, guests, friends, whoever, but for me to pay someone to steal them? That's pretty low and classless. If he asked, I'd have given him some, but for him to go onto my roof and steal boxes? That's a low blow.
That's what his invoice looks like in my trash. My Japanese American Gardner, time to say sayonara, even if you're a childhood friend's dad. I'll show him face by not calling him out. But if he wants his money, it's going to take a conversation to make it happen. Until then, we're even.
In all three languages that we and they engage in any kind of communication.