So my friend Tim comes over yesterday. Tim is homeless. Lives at the county run homeless shelter. Path of life rings a bell.
I ask him to mow my back yard. I have arthritis in my knees and I literally can’t do it. Tim does it. He asks to use my cellphone. I comply.
Tim’s calling an old employer about a reference for job applications. Tim goes into detail about a drywall job that he completed a couple of weeks ago. I am aware of the situation. He was not paid in full.
He was ripped off by a member of Alcoholics Anonymous and every brother that the member has. Tim was passed around like a retarded slut and then kicked to the curb.
Lord knows I have nothing against retards or sluts.
I tend to embrace them both. But I don’t like to see them abused.
While Tim is talking I strain hard to recall the details of his last unpaid (or massively underpaid) drywall job. I pull the name of the street from the moss of my mind.
BING! – I KNOW WHAT STREET IT’S ON.
I tell Tim that I’m going over to toss a brick through the delinquent homeowners window. It should be easy. It’s a vacant rental owned by the scum of the earth.
(This slacker is getting cramps in his wrist. He is not a typist.)
To be continued…