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Friday 29 July 2011

Stolen half hour and a cretin....




A mixed up day with parents having a new floor put down in their home by a mate of mine who is builder; he is a rough diamond, fifteen years younger than me and a neighbour of another mate of mine. He is always happy, laughing and particularly positive about getting things done and done right. It helps that he also has a big open smile, can talk to even my rambling (almost) seventy five year old disabled father who insists on giving him his world famour bear hugs at every opportunity and he owns a big heart. He goes out of his way to put in that extra big of effort and time and I have to remind myself I have known him for less than a year and he has become a fixture in our tight little circle of friends.

His only drawback is that once in his prescence he fills you up with good energy and so you want to be around him and hours can fly by...in a good way. I left him finishing the floor and got on with the chores that needed doing before the weekend.....

Lunch was a protien shake and banana...(not a good habit, but not too wayward for one day) and I plunged back into chores. For one precious hour I had nothing to do....

I collapsed into the sofa, swiped up "Moab is my Washpot" and plunged in. The house was warm, light streaming into the south facing window, birds were twittering from the open back door...until.....half an hour into the break....a shadow fell across the windowsill. I sat up to a see a smiling young man in a suit; the tie was secured in a fat knot around a reddened face, the hair was obviously waxed in what he must have thought was jaunty yet appealing spikes....not too threatening to a pensioner who might see him as a punk in disguise. He stood respectfully at attention, anticipating.

Instead of going to my door I opened the window...which prompted him to produce a clip board he'd been hiding behind his back.

I did try and stifle the sigh that escaped but ...it escaped. He launched into his spiel about how bills were going up, how it was bad management/systems etc that caused this and how HIS company wasn't like all the other EVIL suppliers but was a benevolent fuel provider who was there to save kittens from trees, pull grannies from oncoming traffic and generally plant a tree for every cell in the collective bodies of each of their customers.....before he got any further and opened his shirt and showed me his superman suit I blurted out "No thanks, I'm busy."


I then began to close the window hoping this would prompt him to convert someone else.

"But you're not doing anything important," he snorted, tapping his clip board; it flashed across my mind that it would suit him much more inserted (or rammed up) the vertical smile he presents when running away from potentially violent customers.

I stilled myself, feeling that momentary channelling of internal power that makes British actors the best in the world playing baddies. I slowly opened my mouth, keeping my stare boring into his blue eyes.

"Go away cretin!" I didn't move. I stared. He shifted, opened his mouth and I tipped my head to one side, transmitting with a single raised eyebrow my next move of shoving his clip board where the sun don't shine. He read my mind...ticked his page and turned smartly on his heel; jauntily descended our steps, without looking back...once.....

The phone rang and I was summoned to help put back all the furniture. What a day...what a cretin!

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