Day Off

Sonja had to work today so me and the Hammer had it to ourselves. First thing that happens is I have to take my dog to the park to take a shit. That is the main difference between a morning when I have to go to work, when the dog cuts me some slack, and a day off, when she wants to go take a shit in the park.

The kids were heading off to school as we walked to the park. They have to go to school for several years to learn they would rather stay home and drink. Parents and kids who understand this have a polite term for it: home schooling.

Sonja left me some laundry to finish up so I got on that soon as we got back from the park. Does everybody's old dear make sure they do something they do not like doing when they have a day off? I am pretty sure they do. Having an old dear is like living with your fucking foreman. Do this, do that, fuck you.

I did the laundry. The alternative, not doing the laundry, I would hear about for six months. "I only asked you to do one thing." It is always one thing. One thing or another. I did the fucking laundry.

Once I was done I had my health drink before I went to the gym. My health drink and the gym is the yin to my beer drinker's yang. The gym was quiet. Handful of old motherfuckers like me and an equal number of shift workers. Us old motherfuckers know we only have so much time left; the younger folk do not know their ass from a hole in the ground. Used to be I did not know my ass from a hole in the ground. Now I do. That is about all you learn if you live to be my age. I can tell all sorts of holes apart.

Next I went to the pharmacy. Choose your pharmacy wisely. Mine has several cute, young, Christian female pharmacists. Got my bennie script filled and ordered up several boxes of dick stiffener. Cute female pharmacists do not blush easy I will tell you that.

"You want four boxes? And thirty doses of benzedrine?" my cute blonde pharmacist with a cross around her neck asked me.

"Christmas is an aphrodisiac for my old dear," I told her. "I have a hard time keeping up with her demands. Plus there are the orgies us pagans attend at the end of the year like people did back in the Stonehenge days."

"Stonehenge?" she blinked back at me.

"You Christians are alright," I blinked back at her. "Put a few orgies into your Advent calendar and your membership might stop dropping off so fast."

She went in the back, where they keep their dick stiffeners and speed, and tried not to think about what a shitfuck of a religion she belonged to. I waited impatiently. My next stop was the pub.

I had a couple and had lunch. Different crowd was in the pub than the gym. There were oldtimers alright but no shiftworkers. Instead of the shiftworkers it was the day shift crowd getting their weekend started a few hours early. Mostly secretaries, men these days do not drink much, bunch of pot smoking assholes, but their ladies pour them back like Snotface in 1979.

I got home from the pub just in time to answer the phone. It was Sonja. "What have you been doing?" she asked.

"Busy. Busy. Busy," I told told her. "Fucking laundry never ends."

"You just back from the pub?" she guessed correctly.

"Somebody has to keep them in business. That asshole Campbell sure fucked them over good. Only people not afraid to have a few over lunch are the half of the population that can jiggle their titties enough to keep the fucking cops from hauling out their breathalyzer if they get pulled over, me and a bunch of oldtimers who drive their scooters home from the pub."

"I'll be home in a couple hours," Sonja told me. "You want to get some beers when I get home?"

"Does the Pope shit Bibles?"