Love, Jimmie

I have a new co-worker I need to tell you about. First, though, I should tell you that I’ve had a promotion of sorts. What that means for me is I now do more brand new work that I’ve never done before so I’m sort of hanging on by a thin wire all the time, but it also means that I can contribute to my 401K again and that one day I might have more than $16 in my savings account. Retirement would be a lovely eventuality, and I’m sad to say that I have no faith in our government to actually pay me the Social Security I have so earnestly contributed to all these years.

Anywho, my promotion was a result of some job openings and some restructuring and all of that led to a new co-worker, whom I’m going to call Slim. Slim came to us highly recommended and during his interview we could see he had a heart as big as Christmas. We could also see that he had a stomach nowhere near as big as Christmas because Slim is what you would call lanky. (heh heh, Slim . . . )

Once Slim began working with us, it became safe for me to ask all kinds of personal questions, something I do with great regularity of anyone who lets me. So Slim was being trained and in his training I launched into my nosy queries to which he voluntarily replied. Turns out he drinks two pots of coffee for breakfast, is not married, has one lovely daughter and once I caught him coming up the back stairs with a giant Coke in his hand, I found out that he eats a Snickers for lunch every day.

Y’all, I was astounded! No breakfast? No lunch aside from a wimpy candy bar and a 48 oz sweet tea? And then! Someone gave him a cupcake and he let it sit on his desk for THREE DAYS! How do you not eat the cupcake for THREE DAYS? Needless to say, I lectured him extensively about his eating habits so now he’s added a banana to his daily lunch rotation.

Slim has also been walking a lot with me and Daisy. When Daisy and I walk, we like a normal human pace of about 3-4 miles per hour. Slim likes to walk the inhuman pace of 5-6 miles per hour. While Daisy and I walk, Slim circles us and looks over the fences and prances backwards for a while and generally has to short-step it so he doesn’t leave us behind. As he contributes to our pace, I contribute to all the talking. I ask all my nosy questions and as much as they can wheeze out, they do. I have genuine affection for my co-workers and I can tell that they luff me, too.

One night this week it was far too dark to walk on our Greenway, which is not lit at all. We decided that my neighborhood would be ideal for walking as there are a lot of street lights and also there was food to be had at my house afterwards. Slim made himself at home after the walk. Because he’s what you call lanky, that meant that he paced inside my house and then outside my house and told me all the stuff I need to do to make my house safe for winter.

“You do have a cover for your water spigot, don’t you?”

“You’ll close off all these vents, won’t you?”

“When are you going to pressure wash? You need to do that before it gets too cold.”

“Good Lord, when was the last time you cut your hedges back? Can’t even get in your house, it’s so covered up.”

“We need to get some trees planted this fall, so they can take root over the winter. Be gorgeous in spring.”

It was a lot to take in. I was just trying to get the noodles done.

After he did my home inspection, he sat down at the table and announced, “I’ll come over one Saturday to help you do all this. You’ll need to cook me four fried eggs, some bacon, some ham, one biscuit and some grits and then we’ll work till dark.”

Again, I just stood there, spatula in my hand. “One biscuit?” I asked, wondering where the man was that only eats a Snickers and washes it down with 48 oz of sugar.

“Yeah, I don’t really like biscuits,” he said. “Too heavy.”

So it looks like I’ll be doing some yard work soon and I’ll be cooking some breakfast. Anyone want to come over?