Don't Blame Me, I'm Just Here to Fix the Garbage Disposal: Part Nine
Young man clean-shaven
dressed for biz with a
go get 'em
suit and tie,
in a dark apartment
Steamy from the shower,
her actual name, Cherie,
"Don't look at me."
Short robe, bare legs,
dimpled smile, so pert,
in bubble wrap,
where no one
Among my contracting jobs, for many years I've served as the on-call
handyman for a group of townhouse-style apartments — or rental units —
or whatever one should call an enclosed square of two-story dwellings in
a subdivision of Sunnyvale, California. It's steady money. As a minor
league writer, I need that.
I tried to summarize the experience in
prose, but verse seems to work best. Most of the events took place in
the 1980s though a few are more recent. This is Part Nine of a series.