Conversation with My Wife (117)
You talkin’ to me? I SAID, YOU TALKIN’ TO ME?! No, seriously, the truck was making noise and I wasn’t sure…
Deb is thinking about what happens after she retires. She doesn’t want to just sit around all day, obviously, but her only hobby so far is crochet:
So we’re looking at part-time jobs that will provide some income. We plan to continue to volunteer, of course, but we suspect we can use the extra cash in retirement (hey, retired folks, can I hear an “AMEN”?) and we feel a certain amount of ego tied into getting a paycheck for what we do. Also, having a defined schedule, even a Tuesday through Thursday one, helps us to keep structured. Then, Friday through Monday we travel, goof-off, or whatever.
This leads to my wife going along the conversational path in odd directions, and her husband falling off the trail entirely. Like when we’re crossing the parking lot at a store.
DEB: They need people to move shopping carts around. I can do that.
Any number — okay, pretty much all — of Deb’s musings fall apart when she comes to the realization that the potential job will involve interactions with people. “I hate people.” Yes, her current job involves hourly interactions with people — “What’s the point of retiring if I have to keep doing the parts of my job that I hate?”
DEB: Look for carts. Find carts. Move carts. I can definitely do that. Don’t you think?
ME: Sure, honey. <Deb imitation¹> “Hey, you! Yeah, you sayin’ my cart bumped your car? Your sorry-ass car was scratched nine ways to Tuesday, before you even got onto my parking lot! What, you wanna piece of me? My husband is a freakin’ lawyer, bitch! You wanna sue us? End up sittin’ pretty on a fat settlement? He will counter-sue your sorry ass so hard you will be diggin’ through our trash cans lookin’ for crap at the bottom just so you can find food that fits in your negative budget! So you sayin’ you wanna piece of ME?”
DEB: Sooo… no? You could have just said that, Jackster.
Maybe a part-time admin assistant somewhere local would work. We’ll be looking.
¹If Deb morphed into some sort of crazed New York type.
Copyright ©2018 by Jack Herlocker. All rights reserved, including walking off some hypothetical future part-time job if somebody gets in my face. Because seriously, who has time for that when you’re retired?
