Today I went out the back door of my apartment complex to take some trash to the dumpster. As I neared the dumpster, I was startled by the handyman of the building. It was like a scene in a horror movie. The wall ends and there’s a creepy stranger there.
At least I hope he was the handyman. I had never met or seen the handyman before. Either this was him or just an old man rebelling against the world by painting things that didn’t belong to him.
The Handyman had this weird look on his face. It was a combination of I hate everybody, I smell something sour, That Metamucil is not sitting well and Did I just crap my pants? He reminded me of a villain in an old Scooby-Doo cartoon the moment after they’ve been unmasked. “Zoinks! It’s old man Smithers! The cranky handyman!”
In any case, I thought I would be polite so I greeted him with a pleasant hello. A hello that fell on deaf ears because he didn’t say anything back. What a rude bastard. Although now that I think of it, the guy was so old maybe my greeting literally fell on deaf ears.
As I made my way back to my apartment, my annoyance faded and I started to feel kind of bad for the guy. He seemed like he was old enough to have been around when Bell yelled, “Watson, I need you!” so I’m sure this isn’t exactly where he saw himself in his golden years.
Instead of chilling by the pool sipping on a ice-cold glass of prune juice with a tiny umbrella floating in it, blowing through his Depends like there’s no tomorrow, he was fixing toilets and painting walls. How could I not feel bad for the old dude?
Hang in there, Cranky Handyman. From what I saw today, you’ll be experiencing the sweet release of death any day now.
Funny. I’m going with ageing street artist who paints in alleys near dumpsters.
Thanks. I will ask him next time I see him and get back to you.
You really do give a damn Mario and there’s so few of us left these days, that do.
I try, Bill. I really try.
Chilled prune juice with a little umbrella…love it.
Thanks, June!
Did you ever stop to consider that this is the NICE version of this guy? Maybe he has mellowed over time and he was a lot worse before? Well, that makes me afraid! Great post!
Thanks, Donna! Maybe next time I’ll invite him for some iced tea.
Poor guy! Nowadays, though, you almost HAVE to work until you can’t lift a hand anymore, unless you are lucky enough to have a really generous pension, a wealthy spouse or a genius stockbroker, in addition to Social Security.
Hmmm….I have none of those so I guess I’m already screwed.
Welcome to the Association of Royally Screwed Older People. Dues can be paid in food stamps.
Think I can do C.O.D.?