Africa Hot …..
Being a part timer at a local “big box” I increase my meager earnings by filling my days off cutting lawns for a lawn service or painting for a painting contractor. Both are outside work in the Florida sun and the humidity is intense. This makes it seem rather hot….Africa hot. Africa hot can piss you off if all isn’t going smooth and today was one of those Africa hot days not going smooth.
“You will be working with Carlitos tomorrow Richie. Take my vehicle and he’ll meet you at the paint store at 7 a.m.” said the boss the night prior.
“But Carlitos can’t read a watch boss…he’s always late. I wont wait.”
“Just call me if he’s not there.” said boss and so the next morning at 7:10 a.m. I called to say ….
“He ain’t here…I’m leaving.”
“Please Richie, let me call him….don’t leave until 7:30.” He begged .
At 7:35 Carlito’s hot girlfriend arrived to drop him off and he slowly sauntered out of the vehicle to walk round to the drivers side for a smooch and a little lovey dovey while I seethed. When he was finished and finally turned around he must have noticed…..I was gone .
By 9:45 the sun was intense and I was in a huff as I was painting a house alone and doing all the dreaded brush work . While standing on a six foot ladder with a four inch brush in one hand and a little bucket of paint in the other they arrived….wasps. Two in particular found the end of my nose of intense interest and I tried desperately to shoo them away with violent head shaking and bursts of sharp breath directed by the lower lip . One bastard stung the very end of my left nostril while the other entered that nostril to sink a stinger in the same spot though from the opposite direction.
Like a true Olympian the large four inch paint laden brush triple gainered itself into the gold with a perfect splat dead in the center of the concrete slab that houses the trash barrels and AC unit. With no other option of disguise available I painted the whole slab with a good thick coat while the nose had a heart beat of it’s own.
Just as I finished Carlitos arrived. He paid the taxi driver and then stormed right over my freshly painted slab to confront me with…..
“You are friggin cold dude….you are really friggin cold.”
And before I could inform him that I’m not friggin cold….I’m in fact really friggin hot….he had turned to strut off across the brick paved walk way.
Our efforts to remove his right boot prints from the pavers only made things worse and now I don’t know what to do. What I do know is my friggin nose really hurts……and Carlitos has learned to read a watch.
