yes, of course, the days haven’t matched. what else is new? though the story has been told from the beginning to the end. this is the end my gentle friends, the end. cue the doors. cue martin. cue lightning. action.
jimmy actually showed up early for the final go round. he wanted out of the madness as much as i did. plus he was sportin’ a tood. a big one. i had expected nothing less after the past days deals gone south into the bad juju mystic.
we should be done by 2:30pm today. jimmy’s words.
problem being with jimmy he’s a space cadet and scattered at best. ok. on a good day, that is.
i really didn’t care what his problem was. sure he’s a larger size dude than me but righteousness always wins out. right? um, a huh(?).
i was ready to work. as usual he was all over the map. hard to get him concentrate on one job at a time. sure there was one job. but there’s lots of small ones inside the big one. sane folks understand this. it’s a work in progress. a little job here in order to do the next bigger job. focus. right?
not jimmy. too much tood. and angst.
i need money for the dump fees.
yeah, ok. um, just remember if i didn’t have a triple a card you would still probably be in jail.
yeah, you forgot. i told you the cop wanted to send you and the truck to jail. i was one of the reasons you never got that ticket to ride. well, me and the triple a card. plus i’ve let you store your stuff in my shed every night. in fact, i picked all the shit up by myself the first night. the sad cop day night.
look. don’t give me any shit. i’m giving you a $2,400 for what you got. i’m losing money.
ah, yes, jimmy. bidness man extraordinaire. that was a silent thought. in reality i ignored him. work to be done. plus if he had given me that number to start with he would have lost out to no handshake guy. an even, perhaps, more freaky thought. silence reigned.
well, jimmy is scattered here and there. bouncing about. hard to nail him down. this and that must be done. his mexican helper and i let him riff for a bit.
finally i’d had enough. fuck this. time to work. damn it. i needed to dump the flip flops and put some damn shoes on. shit. socks. too. shit time to work. goddamn it.
i let jimmy scatter about and went inside to change into a sorta working shoe deal. plus me nice sun hat. a sporty number made of palm fronds or some damn thing. close enough to straw for a straw boss.
hey, jimmy. kill the weeds like you been yammering about and let’s dump some damn rock on the ground. ok? rock ‘n’ roll.
well, jimmy sorta found the note and got into the deal. a bit slow at first but he did soar eventually. i knew he would. just the right amount of baby sitting and tood right back at him.
things were going well. rock going down very nicely. more work than i’ve done in well over two years. fuck it. the old ass hole here can still kick out the jams when push comes to shove. and i’d been fucking pushed.
jimmy rose to the occasion. doing a fine job and forgetting he was pissed and under bid the damn job. i didn’t care. i wanted them out of my hair and the job over. no more. please, no more.
i caught the mexican kid in the shed. handed him $40.
here. por tu. no dice nada, a jimmy.
gracis, amigo. no, no, dice nada.
the kid is a good worker and jimmy is lucky he puts up with jimmy’s insanity or what the fuck ever it is. at some point yesterday i told jimmy he was lucky the kid didn’t go elsewhere to some big company and run his own crew and just stand there and point. he’s that good. jimmy sorta got it. but not really.
anyways, with my help and goading jimmy finished yesterday. just after 1pm. well before his appointed hour. i was worn out but it was worth it. the deal had gone down.
jimmy actually came around to my being his new best friend again. fine. he invited me to some catholic church deal tonight. lots of babes our age he said. thursday? no, i can’t make it. maybe some other time.
jimmy kept it up. ok. a luau in august.
august 16th a saturday.
chino hills. ann’s house.
um, i’m thinking, yeah, well.
he says, i’ll drive. lots of ladies will be there.
jimmy doesn’t drink. in case you ain’t noticed, i do.
i’m thinkin’, hmm. this is good for at least one blog. at least one blog for sure. i’m a writer. rock ‘n’ roll.
ok. jimmy, sure. why not?
jimmy was most happy.
i was most happy the way the rock garden turned out. simple shit but clean. my motto of sorts.
jimmy got paid. i paid for the dump fees and gave him a double jackson and told him it was for his and helpers lunch tomorrow. jimmy was happy and the helper winked at me.
yeah, the place looks nice. there’s still minor shit out behind the place that needs to be done but it can wait. i’ll call jimmy about it when the weather cools down some in october or november.
my life is back to normal or what resembles normal. sure there’s august 16th coming up. but i’m ready for it. why not? i’m after all a writer.
before i end this epsitle, i had been telling jimmy all along that the local cops were out for him. he wasn’t amused and tsk tsked me. well, there was some sorta something going down in the park yesterday. local cops speeding about and the sheriff chopper over head while we were shoveling rock around my place.
when i was making an early dinner last night a local cop pulled up and stopped by my mailbox. sat there for a minute. y turned and split.
i thought, jimmy. chopper over head. telling local cops what was going on in the park. told em about the guys and the old pick up truck shoveling rocks about. yeah. local cops dealt with the heaviness of whatever and when it was done took a drive to my place in hopes jimmy was there in order to fuck with him. yeah, jimmy, just like been telling you.
i called him last night. it took a bit but he finally caught what i was telling him. watch your six, jimmy. ulo cops are looking for you. just like i been saying. be careful, jimmy.
last thing jimmy said to me was, i’ll call you about the luau.
yeah, jimmy, fine.