100% slacker perfection
My friend Trish began checking out from the material world about 4 years ago. She used to practice by doing nothing except chain smoking smokes. And, on a regular basis she'd move all of her belongings out on the backyard. This would include her various snakes who'd enjoy some sun and freedom for a couple hours. For a decade, Trish was always on time with her rent but the last four years saw a decline on her previous punctuality. The eviction notice from her landlord, Robert, completed her 4 year degree in slacking off. These past days have been like slackers finals week at Trish's former residence. She was nearly 100% slacker perfection. I never saw her lift a finger except to pick up a ciggarette and inhale some smoke. Somehow, she gave enough of her junk away and surfed the waves of generosity as friends sorted and separated trash and worth. They also brought her junkfood, water, ciggarettes and grass.
I just visited Trish. She's still at her previous residence. Cloie, her dog, had just been washed but she still smelled like a dead rat. I used laundry detergent to wash my hands after caressing her face. Robert B, her landlord happened to stop by in his little silver BMW. He was wearing a slick business suit and sunglasses as he walked around his rental property. He then began to grill Trish on the various miscelaneous items littering his property.
"What are you doing with the stove, Trish"
"What about the fridge?"
"What are you doing with your car?" (Trish's beamer had a broken passenger window and sat on flat tires for the past year)
Trish answers these questions with surprising adroitness. I am impressed with her ability to maintain decorum and yet still talk around each question without actually anwering any of them. Robert's a laywer so this conversation might have had some extra juice for him. Just before I sped off on my motorcycle, I could hear the strained tone of frustration creeping into Robert's voice as he realized there was no definite end in sight.
"This is not acceptable." Robert said looking down.
I just visited Trish. She's still at her previous residence. Cloie, her dog, had just been washed but she still smelled like a dead rat. I used laundry detergent to wash my hands after caressing her face. Robert B, her landlord happened to stop by in his little silver BMW. He was wearing a slick business suit and sunglasses as he walked around his rental property. He then began to grill Trish on the various miscelaneous items littering his property.
"What are you doing with the stove, Trish"
"What about the fridge?"
"What are you doing with your car?" (Trish's beamer had a broken passenger window and sat on flat tires for the past year)
Trish answers these questions with surprising adroitness. I am impressed with her ability to maintain decorum and yet still talk around each question without actually anwering any of them. Robert's a laywer so this conversation might have had some extra juice for him. Just before I sped off on my motorcycle, I could hear the strained tone of frustration creeping into Robert's voice as he realized there was no definite end in sight.
"This is not acceptable." Robert said looking down.
posted by Dij at 1:15 PM
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