(Rainy weather or expectations thereof on the 23rd and 24th prevented my doing the chore on either of those days.)
After having rather firmly secured the television set to the properly repaired flatbed trolley with bungee cords so there wouldn’t be a repeat of Thursday’s fiasco, I took advantage of the warm, clear weather and set off for SAFS, 61st St., rolling it on the sidewalks all the way thereto (8609–10). (This time, I exited from the main rather than the delivery entrance and found it much easier.) The set only shifted slightly and so I repeatedly shifted it back; the only real annoyance was how noisy the metal trolley was as the bumpy pavement kept it quaking all the way.
Sikh temple work, B’way (8607–08).
The lady at the thrift shop who was handling the donations asked if I could unload it from the trolley myself and place it under a certain clothes rack, which was no problem.
As I walked home, a chunky, white‐appearing, possibly Latin American, twenty‐something stopped me with a big smile to inform me I was wearing an “old‐school hat” and additionally said the proper noun Africa as he walked away.