It Puts the Lotion on Its Skin...; or: Why I Wish I Were Handy
So, we had a handyman out to the house* yesterday. He installed a light fixture and two ceiling fans. It took him a bit longer than our other handyman would have taken, but he was cheaper by the hour, so it was a push. Also, our other handyman kind of prefers bigger projects: plumbing, wall removal, etc., and he's much harder to schedule.
Both men could talk you to sleep and awake again. They just won't stop talking.
So, there are a few things about this guy that bug me.
First, he kept making observations about our house. “So, you guys like to read, huh?” “Do you play the guitar?” “Is it hard being a mixed-race couple?” Install, fool, install!
Second, an extension of the first, he commented on my modest campaign pin collection by saying “I guess you’re a democrat then.” After which he proceeded to tell me, in my own home mind you, how much he likes George Bush. During this stirring monologue** he added that war should be as awful and messy and destructive as possible so as to deter future wars. To which I replied “it sure worked with the atomic bomb,” but he didn’t reply because he was horribly hard of hearing. Under his theory though, Georgie is an unqualified success!
Third, he took a break in the middle of the day for one hour. During this time I bought a replacement ceiling fan because the previous one was flawed. At the end of the day, whilst we were discussing his compensation, he actually said "I'm trying to decide if I should charge for my break or not." I replied "no, you shouldn't." But I don't think he heard me.
He didn't charge for it.
Fourth, his voice sounds exactly, and I mean EXACTLY like the guy from “Silence of the Lambs.”
Who, Duf, Hannibal Lector? No, not him.
Oh, then you must mean Dr. Frederick Chilton? Nope, not him either.
Ew, do you mean Jame “Buffalo Bill” Gumb? Yep. Him. That's exactly who he sounds like, and I mean exactly.
And that kind of creeps me out – it really does.
*For those of you who find ILIM to be a bit too erudite at times, “out to the house” is meant to showcase our down-home and folksy side.
**I assure you that while my mouth was ajar, no words came out of it. Besides, I really wanted those ceiling fans installed. I also sensed that I was not going to get anywhere with a hard of hearing fool***, though my case against his boy is quite sound, quite sound indeed.
***I make no apologies for calling the man a fool. I do want to point out that his hearing impairment, when shared here, is meant to be an observation, and not a criticism. We are all blessed, and we are all challenged. I love all of my brothers and sisters without regard to their ability to hear people who are two feet away speaking very clearly and with adequate volume. Along these lines, my favorite scene took place as he was completing the installation of the second ceiling fan. I said "I'm going to run downstairs and get you a couple of light bulbs." He replied, with a straight face "I'm nearing the point where I could use a couple of light bulbs." Oh, okay, I'll go get those.