Yup, Miss Clairol-4-Beasts®, ‘Wine Red’. I’m figuring 2 gallons oughta be enough. My two beautician helpers are gettting psyched up for the event too, and-
Wu: Stop! Enough with your tall tales already.
Me: But I have pictures, Wuzie. The camera don’t lie.Thought you’d appreciate the break from my usual brain stir-fry crap. A little hit of real life
Wu: Ok, What’re their names?
Me: Whew. Glad you asked. See, the one on the right is ‘Ung’ and the other guy is just…um.. “G.N.U”. Stands for “Gnu, not U; Nix on U”
Wu: All that?
Me: They come when I call, so who cares.
Wu: Nu, what’s your real real-life like?
Me: Oh, you know: get up, get out of bed, drag a comb across my head…
Wu: Then what?
Me: Then the head-rabbi stops my car on the way to work. He’s coming back from, er, asking forgivness for blasting my house every friday evening with 7000 decibels of klezmeritus. No seriously, he wants me, for the fifth year now, to tear off the plastic sheeting on his porch, so God can hit him a straight shot on Succot. I have to put it right back on two weeks later, of course.
Me: Yeah, and he’s all dressed up in this absurd goofy gaberdine ghetto get-up, so I shouldn’t, like, feel comfortable handing him my CREDO.
Wu: You got a CREDO?
Me: Sure. Here, have one:
Wu: Ouch. a little rough there, no? Oh well, then what happens?
Me: Oh, two missed calls on the cell while I’m taking my tools into the building where I’m working. Some number in Tel Aviv. I call back and get a machine: ‘press 4 for tax-evasion, 7 for money laundering, 99 for a secret agent man.’
Me: Yeah. I’m in truth mode here. Scared to death, frankly. Finally the guy calls back and it’s just Avner, a client: says I can do his roof as soon as I get a break. Great, like 2047, with any luck. At least now I know where he works.
The next scare is a call from an authoritative-sounding fellow, asks if I do roofs. I tell him something fuzzy and ask “With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” He explains that he got my name from the lumber-yard, lives in town, wants me to do ‘a little change’ on his roof. We meet that evening, since he says he’s not in the country much. Turns out he’s in the air as a 737 pilot for El Al. And the roof job involves a complete remove, re-do, and replace. Hmm.. 2049 looks do-able.
Meanwhile I make my 7:00 PM appointment with Rachamim, who wants me to build a cabin. Well, the cabin grew a bit: it now has two stories. We stand outside and walk the boundaries, watching overhead for the Space Station fly-over, which for some reason doesn’t happen. There goes my reputation for accuracy. I tell him I’ll draw up plans and get back to him before the ‘hagim’ (the holidays). Then I go home and check the date this year. Rosh Hashana September 18th? Yikes. Oh, well, I can always say I meant Yom Kippur, that gives me another ten days.
Wu: I’m beat already
Me: Wait, you still have to do two loads of laundry, feed 10 cats, water 500 plants, and make a half-dozen gruesome stammering fateful phone calls.
Wu: So when did you manage to red the gnus?
Me: What gnus?