There's a man on my roof. I hope he doesn't fall through. His name is 'Dave'...
There's another man on a ladder in my tiny living room. I don't know what his name is. He asked me to clarify mine,
"Is your name 'Kathy' or 'Katy'?"
"Katy."
"It says 'Kathy' on my paperwork..."
Yes, well. Does this make it official? Like getting a new stove is similar to a new spouse and henceforth I shall be known as Kathy...all because of the paperwork.
Damn paperwork. I hope this stove doesn't come with Expectations. Doesn't want me to make it happy or vice versa. I just want a little heat. Some ambience. I'm not into committment. Appliances ask so much. It's why I don't have a riding lawn mower. Or a lawn, really. Unless you count that grass out there...and I don't.
I'm going to keep yammering here on this post, on this blog because otherwise I'd have to talk to these nice men on my roof and in my living room. I'd have to make small talk. Chit Chat. I'm not good at that. I'd jabber and say something offensive or wildly inappropriate that would make this 'install' last forever in all our minds. Would make our time crawl by. Still Not Dave tries,
"Where did your dogs go?"
"What dogs?"
See? That's me...can't help myself.
Blink. Blink blink...
"Didn't you have 2 dogs here yesterday?"
"I thought they were YOURS!"
blink blink blink. Cessation of drilling.
I laugh. Not Dave fashions his face into a smile that is equal parts relief and confusion.
Continuation of drilling.
"Nope," he says.
I'll bet anything he calls me Kathy when he leaves. Just like on the paper work.
