Role Playing

Not an actual photo of the woman I do work for ...
... but close.

I do yardwork and various other chores at the home of a little old lady I met long ago when I first refinished the deck in her backyard. Ever since that first encounter, she's retained me to do all sorts of odd jobs: painting, plumbing, etc. I'm there once a week, minimum.

She's older than dirt, just this side of 90. But she's still feisty as all get out. She'll throw it right back at me if I don't give her answers she's expecting. In other words, we get along just fine.

Today, though, I got the upper hand on her.

One of the things needing attention was putting an old, broken down washing machine out on her curb so a disposal company can come pick it next Monday ...

"So ... these dudes coming out to pick up the old washer - they won't get it if it's by your garage out front? It needs to be right there on the curb, which is no more than 30 feet from the garage?"

"That's what they said" she told me.

"How come you didn't use your wily charms to convince them you can't be bothered with such trivialities ..."

"They simply won't pick it up unless it's out by the curb."

I sighed. "It's a hop, skip and a jump! Besides, they have to pull up into the driveway anyway in order to get it. How difficult can it be?"

"Besides ... my 'wily charms' stopped being wily and charming a long time ago ..."

"Oh, bullshit" I chided her. "If that doesn't work for you, why not use your cranky old lady voice and tell them you don't have the wherewithal, the strength or the patience to deal with it? Trust me ... I've seen you cranky before. You have that down pat."

She glared at me.

"What? You know I'm truth speaking here. Don't tell me otherwise ..."

"I can't do that" she confessed.

"Again ... bullshit. You do cranky just fine. Matter of fact, if you pulled out your dictionary and looked up the word 'cranky' I'm positive there would be a picture of you right there beside the definition ..."

That's when she tried to hit me, all the while smiling at me.

Cranky old woman ...

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

 

What A Cranky Ass ...

A fellow writer and friend of mine, Marnie Broderson, is the same as many of us writin' fools - we need mental expurgation to clear our thoughts, a metaphorical soapbox so to speak on which to stand and complain about stuff.

In her latest entry - Six Kid-Related Things That Can Kiss My Cranky Ass - Marnie does just that very thing. Whereas you might find her a bit crochety, you really can't blame her. After all she is a wife and a mom of two, more than enough fuel to ignite some occasional cantankerousness.

Show her a little reading love by visiting the link. If you care to comment, I'm certain it would make her a little less cranky.

Maybe.

Warning: Expletives abound in Six Kid-Related Things That Can Kiss My Cranky Ass, specifically the shortened four-lettered versions of "fornicate" and "No. 2." When you read the post, you'll understand why. I mean ... she is cranky ...

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )