A Family Thing

May 11, 2016 at 11:21 am (Cosmic Encounters, The Easy Chair)

It was my weekend, and I had big plans.

Since I was low on funds, as usual, I figured it would be a good weekend to begin my ‘let’s get old and putter in the garden’ phase of life. I have already planned to buy some of those green rubber boots that I can slide on and off at the back door, just like Dad used to do.

I was met Monday morning with a full bathtub. Grit in the bottom, a noodle floating near the stopper, which had been removed by yours truly. WTF? We just put in a new drain a year ago. I’ve been pulling out wads of long hair with my artery clamps, but the last time I tried I pulled something up into the trap, and then nothing would drain. Shit. My bro-in-law had been asking if calling a real plumber would offend my sensibilities? (No, especially if you’re paying!) I rigged thousands of dollars of free plumbing for the house; he can cover RotoRooter.

I did online comparisons, and settled with Rescue Rooter. Within two hours a nice young man in a blue uniform was in our bathroom, unreeling a motorized snake and regaling me with tales of plumbing horror. I love these, because it makes our issues look so mundane. My brother-in-law grumbled that I didn’t give him more warning; I fired right back. “Didn’t you ask me to take care of it? Didn’t you say you would pay for it? Do you want me to cancel it? ‘Cuz I can’t pay for it…”

“Yes, yes, no, okay. Wake me when it’s done.” But then he hung out and watched with the rest of us.

After ruling out a trip under the house, Plumber Kevin plugged in Jake the Snake, and the grinding went to town. I watched over his shoulder as he went deeper and deeper, waiting for the telltale bubble from the drain, and the immediate disappearance of all that rancid water. After about ten minutes he stopped the snake, and began pulling backward. I will let what came out speak for itself. Because it was big enough to.

"Is that dad's back hair?"

“Is that dad’s back hair?”

Three feet of hippie hair, of which my plunging had only wedged the obstruction down further. I would never have gotten this out without a professional’s help, so it was money well-spent.

It was Sister’s day off, she had errands to run. Since we both like to smoke weed and ride the bus, it seemed only right that I tag along.

First stop Freddy’s, so Sis can buy my nephew a pair of shoes. (We’re fully committed to Air Monarchs, so if Nike needs a spokesfamily…) We found the right size, and then we were off to never-neverland. The dispensaries.

After much bus-hopping, we ended up at the Division Dispensary. I picked out a vitamin water, to get me through Wednesday freight day. I will have a helper until 7 PM, and many projects to conquer. A few swallows will put me in the right frame of mind. I chose two Laffy-Taffies, $4 chews that pack a 61 mg punch. Perfect for end of shift. When Sis saw what I was buying, she ordered the rest of the vitamin waters. “You never know when there’s gonna be more, and I will share.” She gave me two bottles, along with a couple more taffies. I have the best Sis in the world.

We formulated a plan to get my nephew’s shoes to him at work. He’d been wearing Doc Martens for years, but they are hell on the feet, and his new job as a boxboy was making his feet miserable. I offered to take them to his work, but he politely declined. If he knew how good his feet were gonna feel, he wouldn’t have hesitated a second.

Sometimes things happen for a reason. Since I no longer had to stop at nephew’s work, and since the Weed Store on Hawthorne was out of beeswax caps, I might as well stay on the downtown bus. I finished my soda, and went to throw the bottle away. I was the only one on the bus. There was a small bag on the seat by the trash. I picked it up to throw away, but first looked inside:

Shango bottle

Three packs of Marlboro Reds. (Never Marb, not outta my mouth.) And two bottles of Cherry Pie, 17% THC. An eighth each, wow. A quarter-ounce for free! Praise Jah, the Weed Gods are smiling down upon thee, as Dr T said when I bragged to him about it.

I went to work and swapped the Marlboros for a cheaper brand my friend smokes. (He’ll appreciate the gesture, and the store will make about $4.50.) The weed? I will gift one to Sis, and, as I told co-worker Yogi, “The rest I will dispose of in a prompt and orderly fashion.”

But first I’ll make sure Sis is taken care of. It’s a family thing.

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1 Comment

  1. Mr. & Mrs. Klein said,

    We found your site on yelp, well just me actually. My wife and I are retired and travel the country in our RV. I wanted to surprise my better half with a homemade cherry pie and am trying your reciepe with the 17% thc and all, which a local lady sold me down here in Texas, looks like some kinda parseley or somthing, anyway, were parked under a nice shady tree here next to the Sheriff’s office, and, gee whiz that pie smells funny-hold on, a couple of Sheriff’s are walkin’ this way, I hope the

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