It was a beautiful day to be outside, building a deck, with the waters of the Chena flowing by. Even the sound of joyriders buzzing up & down the river on their airboats didn’t dampen the good mood. I had the iPod plugged into the job radio shuffling along, when the cabin owner showed up to, “Clean up around the place”.
I assumed that it was her attempt to simply help out, but all she really did was slow me down with endless questions and constant attempts at chit-chat. As it stands, most of what she cleaned up, I’ll have to go over anyway, before we spray the insulation.
Recently, she has started to make several visits to the jobsite, shared her thoughts on still being single, and often mentioning “going out to dinner”, while being vague about who she expects to join her. I’m starting to sense that she has ulterior motives to showing up at my jobsite. However, I’m quite content to remain in the role of Contractor to the Broken Hearted. The pay is better.
With the iPod on shuffle, I suppose it was only a matter of time before a song played that would get a reaction. I heard the familar guitar chords and thought, “Oh oh”. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched for a reaction from the new deck.
“I have a hard time missing you baby, with my pistol in your mouth
Mmm have a hard time missing you baby, with my pistol in your mouth…”
I saw her head flip up as she tried to gauge what she heard.
“You may be thinking ’bout going north, but your brains are staying south…”
Then, from inside the cabin I hear, “What the hell are you listening to?”
Without even looking up from my tape measure I replied, “That’s why they call it The Blues, ma’am.”
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