Sam Interviewing a Young Gothic Woman Who Didn't Pan Out Ron AI
I'm Sam Frank. I know, two first names. Actually, it's Samuel, but I've always been known as Sam. I have lived a long, active life, but it was nearing an end. I found that all of those active things I always did were slipping away.
My time would, indeed, come to an end before too long. I had become so disabled with arthritis that I found it difficult to even leave the house with a walker.
Fortunately, upon friends' and relatives' advice, I went, against my better judgment, online and asked for help. A bit fearful at first, because I didn't know what to do or expect, but I filled out the required information for what I needed and sent it off into cyberspace, asking for someone to care for me on a part-time basis.
That was five years ago. After three young women who, too soon, got into my business. All wanting to know repugnant things like how much I was able to give them as an inheritance. And other annoying activities like talking on the cell phone to whomever I didn't know or texting instead of helping me out. I had to fire all three. I originally didn't intend to tell you about them, but somehow, I am impelled to. So here goes…
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From my first ad, I got three applicants from several others that matched my time requirements, lived close enough to drop in when I needed them and were willing to accept what I paid.
In spite of her picture, when the first one came for an interview, she looked to be about 60 and had led a hard life. Lots of evidence of smoking and even drug use with the evidence on her green eyed, heavily wrinkled face and the overly gray of what had been carrot red hair.
Upon entering the room through my front door, she held out her hand, and said, "Hello, I’m Ruby O'Brien. I've had 30 years of helping fellows like you."
Her eyes were stealthily glancing around my cluttered living room and more cluttered dining room table where I had my makeshift application that I had painfully typed and printed from my computer.
I motioned for Ruby to go to the table. "I am Sam Frank. You would be working for me." And began to describe what I needed, watching her turn up her nose at about everything I said or asked. I walked away to the nearby kitchen for a while so that she had time to complete the form without me standing over impolitely staring.
Ruby stopped filling out the application and looked up at me with disgust. "I know what you're doing. You want a maid, well, I ain't no maid and I'm too good for you, old man."
She huffed out of the house and as I watched her stomp down the sidewalk in anger toward her car, I said to myself, Good riddance.
Two days later, when the doorbell rang, I was at the other end of the house, and it took me some time to get there with the doorbell ringing several times. When I opened the door, I was greeted with a 20 tattooed something dressed in Gothic black with net stockings, dyed black hair, piercings and a rather nervous look on her heavily made-up face, like she was high or something.
She blurted, "What took you so long?" I tried to ignore the remark.
I ushered her in towards the table in the dining room and said. "I'm Sam Frank, I placed the ad. It's difficult for me to walk with these bad hips and knees.
"I can see that. And I can see from the looks of your place that you need someone to clean up. I'm not very good at that. Don't cook very good, neither. But I can hang around and humor you till you kick off. If that's what you want?"
Seeing immediately that this young lady would not do, I cut things short. "You didn't even have the courtesy to give me your name and already have started into me and my house in a way that I know will end badly. You don't even seem to be like the person who I talked to on the phone."
"Oh, that's my cousin who I stay with. She wants me out of the house. Why she answered your ad."
"Well, young lady, I want you out of my house, too!"
She stopped at the table, looked down at the one-page application and pen, and then looked at me with evil in those black eyes, "Who's going to make me, old man?"
"I am. Now get out before I call the police!"
That seemed to bring her to her senses and she left.
A day later, the third woman that I had invited rang the doorbell. I got there in a reasonable amount of time and opened the door. What I saw was another young woman who avoided my eyes in a very plain housedress like my grandmother used to wear. What looked like support stockings and cheap tennis shoes. With a very shy demeanor, she walked to the table under my direction with her head down. I asked again on the way, "What's your name?" Telling her mine.
I gave the young lady who's first name was Maude enough time to complete the one page. But when I returned, she was stumped when it came to references. I was only asking for two.
"I see that you're having trouble. Have you worked for anyone before?"
"No, that's why I'm having trouble. And I can't use my mom because she's the reason I applied, telling me, 'If you don't get a job soon, I'll put you and your things out on the street.'" She burst out crying.
I patted her on the shoulder and offered her a tissue while Maude's tears smeared some of the ink on the application.
"Now, now. No need for that. I will give you a trial run at taking care of some of these things around the house and I will pay you every day for now until we work out a schedule, when I will put you on a regular payroll."
Maude finally looked up at me with her tears glistening on her cheeks. "Okay." She whimpered almost inaudibly.
She agreed to start the trial that day with a couple of hours. I took the time to take her into the living room where she began to pick up things for me and deposit them where I told her. Maude didn't seem to have any ideas of her own how to clean up and rearrange anything. But she followed my verbal instructions satisfactorily. Still, it seemed like I could do it faster myself.
It was getting near noon, so I suggested, "Would you like to make us lunch?"
"No, Mr. Frank, but I could run over to Mickey D's. I really love their big Dee burgers. And their salads are pretty good for people like you who want to eat that way. Give me a $20 bill and I'll go get us something."
I told her, "That won't be necessary." Steered her towards the refrigerator and with my instructions made me some coffee and some sandwiches for both of us. She doubled up on the peanut butter and didn't put any lettuce on the lunchmeat that I generally had for lunch, just lots of ketchup. With some persuasion, she got me the healthier vegetables that I had while she stuck to the kind of stuff that kids thrive on. Sugary and fattening.
While the cleanup and rearranging the stuff I wanted to sell and better stuff I wanted to keep stalled, Maude gradually began to get into my routine and basically, get stuck there. Preferring to wait on me while she examined things on her cell phone and generally get nosy about what I earned in my retirement and how much I had put away for the future.
After working about a week, Maude asked me for a loan. "Mom bought me that old car I'm driving. I need a new one. Can you loan me the money to buy one? Everyone tells me that to finance a car is too expensive."
I answered. "You've only worked a week, and I don't know you well enough to have any idea whether you could pay back what it costs to buy a new car. All you really need is transportation… Like you already have."
"You want me to be here on time, don't you? What if I have a flat tire?"
"You change the tire. You get it fixed. Buy a new tire, whatever. What does a new car do for you when all you do is come here and work every day?"
"It makes me feel good."
By that time, I lost my patience. "Well, I think you're going to have to go somewhere else where they can make you feel good doing your work, car or no car. After I pay you for today, I want you to leave and not worry about your car, because I don't want you coming back tomorrow. Do you understand?"
She started crying again, but I couldn't sympathize. I needed someone much stronger than her to help me when things got tough. She wasn't it.
To be continued…
Copyright 2022 © Ronald W. Hull
4/23/22
