(If your New Year’s resolution was to not miss a single Flashback Sunday post in 2014, CONGRATULATIONS! You are well on your way, with only 51 flashbacks to go! If, however, your goal was to start working out each morning but, instead, have decided to “adjust” that goal by having coffee in bed while reading this week’s flashback, CONGRATULATIONS ANYWAY! While others are getting sweaty, hungry and staring at someone’s sweaty backside in step aerobics, you are comfy and caffeinated. Who’s 2014 is off to a better start?)
There are three things I know about “Larry.”
He is a contractor; he lives somewhere in Multnomah County; and he has the same cell phone number that I do.
The calls started about a month ago, presumably about the time “Larry” got his contractor’s license and began making bids. Since then, he has been a busy man, picking up jobs and making sure that his clients know they can call him any time. Day or night. For any reason at all.
Which they do — to my cell phone.
The Hansons, for example, call whenever they change their mind about what color tile to use around the bidet in their new bathroom. For the Gilmores, deciding between cedar shakes or aluminum siding requires at least one consultation a day. And the Reyboulds are still contemplating the ripple effect of kitchen cabinets without knobs. Mrs. Reybould thinks knobs would make their kitchen look more inviting; Mr. Reybould believes not having knobs would stymie their 2-year-old and keep him out of the cabinets for at least another year. Continue reading Hello: My name isn’t Larry