Maid in Montgomery

So I have my three month evaluation this morning. I'm sure I'll be gotten on to for my long lunches, frequent bathroom trips, and extensive email use. But Brian, this is what makes me Andrew Greene. They should have known this going in. I've told you about my hair right? They wanted me to comb it down, so i told them where they could put the comb.

I need to be around creatives. This brain of mine is starting to feel like congeal salad.

So I'm house sitting this week. The people who own the house have a pool with nothing but an adolescent hedgrow growing around it. No fence, no privacy, just stubby hedge. I wake at 5 am, and decide I'm going to start my day with a swim. The pool is covered in Crape Myrtle buddlings, fallen from a thunderstorm the night before. White and pink and purple little petals spread like an afghan across the glassy surface, and so i dove right in. I felt as though I were part of a second rate trashy romance novel. At this point i decided to go in the buff. It was early, and the early morning so and so could act as a rudder, i thought, and no one would have to know. I'm back stroking, the white, pink, and purple petals sticking to my wet skin, my anatomical sundial telling me it was 5:45. I do a couple of laps, then put on my aviator sunglasses and lay on a float and smoke a cigarette. I'm drifting in and out of consciousness, when i hear the gate open, and look up to see the maid coming down the walk.

This in and of itself is funny, but what kills me is how queer I must have looked. I could have been the cover model for Naked Man Page Magazine. I'm laying on a kid float, half mast, covered in white, pink, and purple crape myrtle buds, wearing only aviator sunglasses, smoking a cigarette.

There is little you can do when your stark naked. You can try to hide yourself, but you just end up looking more retarded and somehow, more naked. If you just sit there, in all your glory, it places responsibility on the other person. They've walked into a naked atmosphere, trying to hide makes the atmosphere clothed and puts the naked person in fault. Had Adam and Eve pretended nothing was wrong, we could be seeing some great rack right now. I decided to change the atmosphere.

Hidelga, or whatever her name was, saw me and immediatly averted her eyes, "Oohhh,.....Sorry." she remarked as her pace quickened towards the back door.

"Your check's on the table." I called after her.

I then did something which has made me laff all day. I have no idea why i did this, but it seemed right at the moment. LIke I was giving Hidelga the finger or something. Scolding yet taunting her at the very same time

I rolled off the float like a bloated walrus, the aviators and cigarette still attached to my face. I stayed under water for a while, waiting, thinking. I knew what Hidelga needed, what she deserved, what she was begging for.

I planted my feet firmly on the bottom of the pool and pushed myself towards the surface with all my might, the cigarette flecking apart, going from half mast, to full salute. As i surfaced, I thought of the picture that was to be burned into Hidelga's mind for all eternity. It would probably race across her mind during those idle moments of dusting an amoir or lowboy, or perhaps she would think about it while removing soap scum from a tile wall. I burst from the water and did one of those hump-back whale dives, where your a$$ is left sticking out of the water, hanging in the air. Every guy who has ever been naked in a pool has done this. And I did it for Hidelga.

I wrote the above this morning and was cracking up, now that it's noon, I'm not so sure that it's funny any more.


tobbacky