Friday, June 16, 2017

His Man Friday

This is becoming an annoyance as the lawn guy seems to not understand that Eb owns this house and Eb decides if the lawn is to be cut and Eb pays for the lawn to be cut and if Eb is not home then there is no point in banging on the door or ringing the doorbell. The lawn guy is either seriously dense or he is testing to see if Friday night is a good night to break into this house because he continues to come back banging on the door and ringing the bell (sometimes waking me) asking if the awn should be cut or when he is going to be paid when Eb's motor scooter is not outside (meaning he is not home). Tonight I am ignoring the door and the knocking (which turned into banging) and am reaching the point of annoyance. I am tired of going to the door repeatedly on Friday evenings to say Eb's not here and I don't know when he will be back and I don't have your money, it's Eb's house and Eb pays you to do his lawn, it's not my house or my lawn so please stop waking me up. Only to hear Oh, I'm sorry, will you tell him I came by? Maybe it's a cultural thing... or he's just dense. Or else.

Anyway, the third time the lawn guy returned louder than ever, it was distracting enough to stop the writing and I was on a row and really enjoying the solitary world of my imagination and maybe even close to the core of profundity of everythng (or something like that).

I guess I have to start going out on Friday nights even when softball is rained out.

Babbler, interrupted.


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