Estimate

“We’ve only got help for a few hours,” Katie says as we enter the second day of move-in. “How long do you think it will take to finish this project?”

“I don’t know how long it will take,” I answer, exasperated. “I’ve never done it before!” 

Let’s Do Our Best!

Tomorrow is move in for the market, which can be physically challenging and kind of stressful. 

Whenever I would have to do the 500 yard freestyle, at a swim meet when I was in high school, I would feel sick. Just knowing the pain and the possible consequences of not doing my best would give me a sick feeling in my stomach.

I still get that, but at least I don’t worry about not giving my best.

Security Blanket

“What’s it look like?” the woman in the bright orange Home Depot apron asks skeptically.

“It’s an iPhone with a green case,” I tell her. The desperation is almost gone from my voice because I know she’s got it, and even though it’s only been ten minutes since I put down my phone for some reason in the lumber aisle of this Home Depor, relief is flooding over me.

She goes behind the counter and retrieves a phone, which is of course mine, and I can feel my blood pressure drop.

Heard That One Before

“Yeah, I’m picking up an order for Katie?” I tell the man behind the counter as I show him the email.

“Last aisle, all the way in the back,” he replies.

So I walk back there, not seeing anybody, no office, nothing until I’m almost at the end of the aisle, when I see the guy sitting in a very tiny chair at a tiny desk, perched under some stairs that are nearly low enough to smack him in the head if he turns too quickly.

“Boy, they really got you tucked in there,” I exclaim, and he smiles thinly at my lame banter.

Respect Your Elders

The young man is standing at the head of the line at the post office when we arrive, and the older woman who got there just before us doesn’t seem to notice him. Both the employees are helping other customers, so we settle in to watch.

Sure enough, as soon as the employee behind the counter finishes up with her customer, the older lady steps up to the window and starts talking, without any consideration for the guy who was waiting in line so patiently. 

But when I try to point out her mistake, the young man who was already waiting catches my eye and waves me off, content to wait while the older woman does whatever she needs to do.

What Happened?

I read her a rough draft of a new poem, one about killing spotted lantern flies, which ends with me stomping on one and dragging my foot across the pavement (in iambic pentameter, no less!).

“Jesus,” she says when I’m finished. “That’s not something I need to hear right before bed.”

“You’re such a happy boy!” she exclaims in confusion.

WAIT

The line to get in outside the Co-op is longer than I expected for a Monday at three in the afternoon (I later realized that the federal holiday probably had something to do with it), so I queued up and waited my turn.

When I finally got to the front of the line, I watched the sign reading “NEXT MEMBER” very carefully, but when it flashed for me to go in, the guy sitting at the member check in counter, visible from where I was standing on the sidewalk, put up his hand with a look of irritation, indicating I should continue to wait.

“It’s flashing,” the guy behind me said impatiently.

“Yeah, I saw, but he said wait,” I told him with a shrug, indicating the guy at the counter, and we both watched him intently until he waved me in.