My girlfriend Jody is pissed. She says I’m not a good boyfriend. I’m no fun. I never take her anywhere. Every night I’m busy and I rarely drink. All this is true. Most nights I work, unless I can’t find a place, in which case I’m looking for the next set of darkened windows. Now I happen to like Jody. I’ve gotten attached to her, even though rule number one in my line of work is don’t form emotional attachments. That’s not a problem when you’re young. Who cares about girlfriends or accumulating stuff? In my twenties I was good and limber. I could cross a room quieter than a cat. But now my knees are getting creaky. My eyesight isn’t as sharp as it once was. One night I left my reading glasses at home and nearly muffed a job. So, I’m trying something new, which in and of itself is not a bad thing. Some people learn French or how to bang out Moonlight Sonata on a keyboard. I’m learning the rules of bedroom communities. How to decode who stays at home and who’s catching the 7:40 express. I’m hoping all I need are overalls, a ladder and a sense of where I’m going. It better work out cuz I’d hate to lose my best gal.
Second Story Man
October 18, 2012 | 0 comments