People Of Little Knowledge.
Case In Point:
Today I pulled up to a house to give an estimate. The lawn ended up being a Bahia lawn (which we don’t treat), so I began walking back to my truck. As I turned the corner, and older gentleman yelled some incoherent ramblings my way. As he approached (from across the street), he walked up to me smiling.
Now I have to point out that he appeared to fit into the “crazy old man” category — 2-strap blue velcro orthopedic shoes, tube socks up to his knees (complete with 2 red stripes up top), shorts pulled above his belly button, and a tucked-in thin polo shirt from which his old-man nipples ascended like ice burgs, as his old-man chest hair wafted lazily in the breeze, protruding from the V in the neck.
To top it off, he had thick, old man glasses and his hair was an exact replica of Doc Brown’s.
Anyway, he asked what I was doing, I explained the situation, and he responded “yeah, crazy dogs,” with an odd smile on his face. I was so beyond puzzled all I could do was blink in amazement. “Yup, all Bahia here. bahiabahiabahia…. look at those dogs,” – he said, as he pointed across the street, where he came from.
“Those dogs yip-a-yap all the time at me!” — then, he let out a sound that I can only attempt to describe. I assume he was trying to bark at the dogs, but instead he uttered some horrible conglomeration of “Woof” and “Ruff” — which turned out sounding like “Wroov.”
Did I mention he was a close-talker? Very close. Invading-my-bubble close.
He began “wrooving” at the dogs, whipping them into a frenzy. “Wroov! Wroov, wroov!” he’d scream. “That little one runs away every time I go over there. But the big one, he loves to be pat. ‘Pat-Pat, Pitta-Pat Pat.’”
(me) ::Blink Blink::
“Watch this!” he said, as he almost skipped over to the fenced-in yard. I couldn’t help but watch. I mean, what would he do if he turned around and I was speeding off in my truck?
“Wroov, wroov-wroov-wroov” he continued. He stuck his hand over the fence at the now rabid dogs. They began snarling and barking and growling… and he just giggled. “Did’ja see that? I told you!” he exclaimed as he came back to reality my side of the street.
::Blink Blink::
I don’t think I said another word. I walked to my truck, started the engine, and drove away.
I realized three things today:
1. If it looks like a crazy old man, it probably IS a crazy old man.
2. If you have the urge to drive away when somebody turns your back on you, you should probably do so.
3. I hope I end up just like him some day.
Filed under: life, polk county, work | Tagged: crazy, dogs, man, old, work, wroov
That made me laugh out so loud at band practice that the band stopped what they were doing and looked at the booth and asked me what happened. Oops.
Scottie. I almost peed myself with laughter. Did I spell “peed” right? Maybe there are more e’s, but I do not know. This is the other Emily, by the way. Hey.
hi,
We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults. Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment.
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