One of these things just doesn't belong
Milton rings the doorbell!
He's here to deliver a package. When I open the door and greet him, he gives me his usual hug and asks how the studying is going.
When I tell him the studying is going alright, but that I'm tired of it, he tells me that I have to persevere. "I go home every day and work on my house. I've been building it for four years."
"What? You're building a house? Yourself?" I ask. I had it in my head that he wouldn't be that handy.
"Wait right here," he directs and runs around the corner. I have a fleeting hope that he isn't collecting 5-10 of his most thuggish friends to pillage LSB's property.
Five minutes later he reappears, out of breath. He's traded his mailbag for a stack of CVS photo envelopes. He comes in and begins spreading pictures all over the kitchen table.
"I bought this house for $28,000," he says proudly. It was a hellhole, to put it nicely, before. I'm shocked at his "after" pictures. He's completely rewired it, added large windows, redone the hardwood floors, built a staircase, added a second floor, and on and on.
"It's amazing," I say, admiringly. It really is.
"And, I special ordered two giant, seven-foot clawfoot bathtubs for the bathrooms. That way," he giggles, leaning down to gesture at my feet, "we can get in together and play with each other's toes."
I cross my arms, suddenly self-conscious.
He's here to deliver a package. When I open the door and greet him, he gives me his usual hug and asks how the studying is going.
When I tell him the studying is going alright, but that I'm tired of it, he tells me that I have to persevere. "I go home every day and work on my house. I've been building it for four years."
"What? You're building a house? Yourself?" I ask. I had it in my head that he wouldn't be that handy.
"Wait right here," he directs and runs around the corner. I have a fleeting hope that he isn't collecting 5-10 of his most thuggish friends to pillage LSB's property.
Five minutes later he reappears, out of breath. He's traded his mailbag for a stack of CVS photo envelopes. He comes in and begins spreading pictures all over the kitchen table.
"I bought this house for $28,000," he says proudly. It was a hellhole, to put it nicely, before. I'm shocked at his "after" pictures. He's completely rewired it, added large windows, redone the hardwood floors, built a staircase, added a second floor, and on and on.
"It's amazing," I say, admiringly. It really is.
"And, I special ordered two giant, seven-foot clawfoot bathtubs for the bathrooms. That way," he giggles, leaning down to gesture at my feet, "we can get in together and play with each other's toes."
I cross my arms, suddenly self-conscious.
4 comments:
um..... wow.
I thought this dude was creepy at first, now I'm thinking restraining order :)
I just can't figure him out. I'm going to have to just ask about the gay thing to end all this rampant speculation. If he is, there's a chance I could take him, even though he's got 4 years of hard construction labor under his belt.
gay postal worker/construction worker....sounds like the village people
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