Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Dirty Laundry 47

Knock at the window, looked to see my cousin Walsh was standing there. He had take-away coffees. Handing me one, I let him in. "What's this?"

Walsh-:"I heard about Saturday. How you feeling?"

Me-:"Crappy."  I had done some tarot readings on the weekend, only Saturday was a disaster. I haven't been hugged so much in my life, but the readings themselves were horrible.

Walsh-:"You watch the show last night?"

Me-:"No. Woke up yesterday with my ribs hurting. Felt like I had been used as a punching bag or something, then major migraine. Ended up just back in bed half the day. Why?"

He shrugged smirking like a teenager."You taped it right?"

Me-:"Yeah, watch it later. Why?"

He just stood there grinning. I hate that, our one uncle does that all the time drives everyone bonkers. "Pay-per-view is this weekend."


Walsh-:"Don't let Saturday get to you. Everyone has an off day."

Me-:"What's that got to do with the wrestling?" He shrugged again finishing off his coffee crushing the paper cup trying to be cool. "You still working across the street then?" he nodded.

Walsh-:"Don't give up on the readings. One bad day all it was." he turned heading back out. "You give up on stuff too easily. Like you did on Mr. Scratchy."

Me-:"Didn't give up on Mr. Scratchy."

Walsh-:"Then why haven't you talked about him lately?"

Me-:"Nothing to say."  

He shook his head at me as he left the building heading back over to work. And I paced back and forth in the apartment for awhile just feeling crappy, drinking the bad coffee.  I still have no idea why my ribs were sore yesterday either.

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