Monday morning and I just want to stay at home. “I know it is wet out,” he said, “but let’s go for a ride. It will be fun!” 6.146 miles later we arrive at his office and I am covered in wet, grimy road gunk. He gets changed, but I have to sit here and let the stuff dry until we go home. He promises a nice hot shower at the end of the day. Whatever.
Then, the phone rang, he slammed it down and made a couple quick calls and was gone. Great, now what? It was late afternoon before he walked back into the office and what do you think he has in his hand? Car keys. Can you believe it? CAR KEYS! He made a couple more calls and said something about taking his dad to the ER, but I don’t care, I’m just ready to go home.
The end of the day arrives and as he packs the laptop back in the back pack – he picks up the car keys again. WHAT?!?!? Yeah, he just walked off and left me sitting in his office listening to his “radio station” running in the rack next to me pumping out jazz, soundtracks, swing, some 80’s stuff and – oh you have got to be kidding me – Tiny Tim???
Tuesday arrives and he walks in wearing street clothes, car keys in hand yet again. Dude! I’m so mad I don’t even talk to him. The mud had fully dried and I just want to go home. Another long day and another long night. Hmmmm, Cannonball Adderely followed by Frankie Goes to Hollywood. Interesting mix there guy.
Now it is day three and he tells me his dad is fine and will be going home today and he’ll hopefully get to come back late this afternoon and we’ll ride home together then. Right, spare me. Maybe I’ll let you ride home with me. Jerk.