A Nice Pair

I had to drop by a coworker’s apartment to pick up an item I loaned him. Something he’d had for too long and I needed back urgently. Ok, it was a goddamned soldering-iron and I didn’t need it back urgently, but don’t borrow things indefinitely. People.

There were some teenage kids smoking behind his apartment; I’d parked on the opposite street and walked through his backyard, so he wouldn’t see me coming. The kids were sticking their still-burning cigarette stubs on the vents of the running swamp cooler. I was going to say something, but upon realizing it was the swamp cooler to my coworker’s apartment I just let it be.

Photo stolen from justblogged.com

When his wife opened the door I felt a little guilty. First off because she thought I was her sister at the door, and while talking on her phone she opened the door in her bra, not intending to greet her sister until she finished the phone call. She paused and then ran away.

Secondly, because I’d intentionally gone there when I knew he wouldn’t be there. Not to talk to her, I didn’t even know what she looked like. Rather, because I just don’t want to talk to him more than I have. In my defense, I’d loaned him the tool before I realized how obnoxious he is.

Thirdly, because I then felt guilty that the muggy stale cigarette smoke waffling most irritate this woman. All guilt left when I remembered that she was married to my coworker which would require some pathology if not extreme willful ignorance.

Also, he doesn’t wash his hands after wiping himself. I’m assuming he wipes himself, I’ve never been in the stall with him, but I’ve never seen him wash his hands when he leaves the stall either.

PS: She couldn’t find the soldering-iron so I have to go back another time.