Friday, May 7, 2010

RobBlog W E E K E N D Edition

It’s Friday afternoon.
I am up to my armpits in dishes and mugs after a week-long kitchen re-do. The doorbell rings.
“Salam on the beach”, I wonder out loud- “Who the hell is that?”
I cleaned that expletive up- in case you were wondering.
I scamper down from my ladder.
I stretched the truth a bit there. It was actually a white, 3-step kitchen stool.
The doorbell goes again. This time with greater urgency.

I’m not expecting anybody but the same scenario happens to us all- doesn’t it?
We’re in the shower.
Soap all over the place and either the phone rings or the doorbell goes “bing-bong!”
Sometimes we’re just up a ladder.
I reached the kitchen floor just as the front door “knocker” is being banged- repeatedly.
What the *&^% is so important?
I open a side door onto the verandah and call out-
“Hello. Can I help you?”

A rather timid looking women- reminiscent of one of the secretaries in the office where Jack Lemon worked in the movie The Apartment, peaks around the corner at me.
“Are you the h*&me**r?”
That’s all I caught.
“Are you the homeowner?”
“Yes. I am.”- I say with smallish enthusiasm. I see she’s wearing a name tag with her picture on it, attached to a rope around her neck.
Red flag!
“Are you aware of Ontario’s Energy Plan?”- Says Matilda.
Now, that may not be her real name. She mumbled that too. I’ll just call her Matilda. She looked like a “Matilda” with dark short hair, big, black-rimmed glasses and massive red lips.

‘I’m not interested.”- says I, politely.
She continued.
“You have heard about the Ontario…”
“I am NOT interested.”
‘Did you just hear what I said?”
“I am NOT interested!”- I remained calm all the while thinking-
Cripes! What do I have to say to Matilda to get her to do a 360 and take her fat ass down my front steps.

Now, Tilly looked like she was getting mad.
“You’re getting mad- aren’t you?”- I say with a smile.
“No, I’m not! I’m just asking you if you are aware of the green plan for Ontario…”
“I am NOT interested.”
She glares at me.
Then, Matilda shoots burning arrows into my eyes, retreats down the stairs, climbs on her broomstick and takes off down the street.
I am sure I heard her mumble “Asshole”.
That’s right Matilda- my inside voice is yelling…and proud of it!!

I felt rejuvenated. Almost better than an afternoon caffeine fix but not quite.
I headed back into the house to my step ladder, dishes and the job at hand.

Have a good weekend!
...and don't answer the door if you're busy or on a ladder!