Housekeeper arrived, today, dressed in black. Black jeans, black shirt, black shoes, black sox, black hoody.
She sneaked around Dog, who I had on short leash, slinked into the house while wiggling her finger at me in greeting.
I asked, I said: “All in black?”
She kind of looked herself over and said: “I hadn’t even noticed. But your right.”
“Some special reason or should I prepare to defend myself?” I asked.
She gave a rueful laugh and just shook her head. “It started yesterday morning.”
“Ah. What?” Not that I was over curious, you understand, viewing a skinny dirty blonde haired woman looking somewhat unkept and flat-butted.
“Oh. The first customers yesterday were on a pissing match and nothing went right. Then the second woman was an eighty year old that nothing pleased, changing her mind about everything mid-course of every job. Bad day.”
“First thing I did before anything was fix a drink when I got home. Even before emptying the car, feeding the dog, or bringing in the groceries, and did you know that I have a cat, now?”
“Bad day, then. And you had a drink?”
“Several. I didn’t have the cat. An alley cat had the cat, well, kittens. Then she went off and got killed. Hubby’s dog killed one of the two kittens . . . well didn’t kill the kitten it mauled. Hubby had to go out and kill the kitten; not the good kitten, but the one he liked that his dog mauled. Took the gun out and shot it. I brought the other one in before the dog got to it. Damn mother cat had the kittens in the chicken coop.”
“Then I had another drink or two. Then Kevin came over with a bottle of Tequila and his new Smart Phone. He showed it off and, Did you know that it doesn’t have any buttons? He just talks to it and it works. I think I need a phone like that. Mine is the first one I ever got and that was ages ago.””
“What were you mixing with the Tequila, Housekeeper?”
“Nothing. Kevin spoke to his phone and asked it what you drink with Tequila and it Googled “What do you mix with Tequila” and it said; nothing. You drink it straight and follow with Lime.”
To which I simply shook my head, resigned to a bad day of having my house cleaned by a hung over housekeeper, dressed all in black. But I was curious, so I asked Housekeeper if she was wearing her sports bra, and she said she was, then waited, seeming to sense I had another part of the question on my mind.
But, I knew the sports bra was black, also, and I was tempted to ask if she was wearing black panties. It would have been, I feel, a bit too much to ask and definitely more than I really wanted to know.
Still . . .
From the reaches,