I rang the bell, and stood there dripping on the mat until someone opened it.I rang the bell, and stood there dripping on the mat until someone opened it. "Jesus, you're wet!" was the first thing he said. "C'mon in and dry off a bit while I find some money. How much are they?" "Thirty-seven fifty," I told him stepping inside. "Any chance you could spare me a towel?" "No problem. Be right back." He disappeared down the hall, and came back a couple of minutes later with two twenties, a big, fluffy bath towel, and a can of beer. He handed me the money and towel, and I handed him the pizzas. The usual juggling act wasn't made any easier by the fact that he had opened the beer, and the inevitable happened. We missed the handoff on the towel, and it started to fall. We both reached to catch it, and he tipped the beer a little too far. I wound up with the better part of a can of Budweiser poured over my head. I don't like beer to begin with, and I certainly don't like it dripping down my face and the back of my neck. I screamed at him. This last frustration was the absolute last straw, and I told him exactly what sort of clumsy, brain-damaged idiot I thought he was. He took it calmly and waited for me to run down. When I ran out of things to call him, he just said "Would you take some of that back if I offered to run your clothes through the washer while you take a shower?" What can you say to an offer like that except yes? I couldn't think of any other way to answer him. |