02/15/01

I woke up this morning to find Stash Skimington’s truck parked outside the house. I was pissed. The first thought that came to mind was that he must have spent Valentine’s night in my bed screwing Phebe. By the time I got to the house, Phebe was on her way out the door in a hurry, leaving for work. She said she had to call Stash because she noticed some water leaking under the sink in the bathroom. Had to ask why she was going and calling Stash when I was right there down the lane to help. She was in a pissy mood, said she didn’t think I would want to be bothered. She bristled, said now I was gonna make her late for work holding her up like that, making her explain things.

Maybe you don’t know what it’s like to have a boss to face, but I do, she says.

Actually, I think I do know what it‘s like to have a boss to face, I say recklessly, how many years we’ve been married?

I knew I was saying awful things, but as long as that snooping fucker Stash was up there in my house, how the hell was I supposed to act?

After Phebe left I went inside the house to make sure Stash was really there to work on the pipes, and then I stood over his shoulder the whole time while he replaced a compression fitting under the sink. Made sure he didn’t wander around looking through all our shit. I mean Phebe’s shit.

He asked me again if I’d rent the farm to him. I told him hell no.

The fucker then says he has to get $200 for the repair. All I can think to myself is, Do you know how much scrap metal I have to haul to get $200?

So I say to Stash, you’ll have to get the money from Phebe. She’s the one with the checkbook.

Stash laughs, says, yeah, I know.

Fucker.