I could see right off the bat it wasn’t right, him leaving you fine folk in the lurch like that. So I said to him, “That is absolutely wrong. You owe them.” Didn’t sway him one bit.
In fact he became downright annoyed when all I was doing was trying to help. You can see that, right? He gave me a nasty look and stalked out saying, “If you’re so concerned, just go ahead and write it yourself.”
He was kidding, of course, but then I figured why not give him a hand. He’s a good friend and I assume he’ll be delighted with my assistance. So here I am. I’m sure I’m a natural for this.
Huh? “Oh, yes my love.” That’s Michelle, my wife. A real charmer. You can meet her in all of Bob’s mysteries, except Patriotism. Still annoyed with him for not calling on me to help with that one. Sure, I was on sabbatical in Europe, but still.
Back to Michelle. Wonderful woman. And smart. She runs marathons. Isn’t that amazing? Helps out when bad things happen to me. That seems to occur fairly often. Can’t think why.
Last night she served up a yummy meal, healthy and everything. She started to clear the table, but I told her I’d do it. She looked kinda panicky and said for me to just sit down.
No way, after she worked so hard doing all that cooking. I’ve always admired servers in restaurants. Ever notice how they clear a table by stacking dishes on top of each other and even balance some up their arm? Before last night I didn’t know how they did it. But I figured it was time to learn. I approached the table.
We didn’t use much, one dish each, one glass, and silverware. So on a dish I placed a glass, a fork, and a knife; then positioned all on my arm. Stayed there real nice. Next I picked up the remaining dish and loaded it with glass and silverware. Only thing left was to carry everything to the dishwasher.
I’ve got to tell you, I could be employed by any restaurant in the world.
Of course, there was a wee problem when I got to the dishwasher. Don’t know how it happened, but when I leaned down to open it, the stuff that was balanced on my arm fell to the floor. Still can’t explain why. I tried to catch it before it hit, of course. As anyone would. Sadly, I had forgotten I was holding other items. Wound up dropping them so I could grab those that were falling. Well, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Sometimes I hate the law of gravity.
Michelle, that treasure, was damned nice about it. Some people might have said she was resigned, but I’m positive the look she gave me was nothing but love. I, of course, offered to clean up. But she always thinks of me. She told me to sit down and she would take care of that task, that I’d helped quite enough that evening. She seemed a little curt, but I’m sure I’m wrong.
She’s the best, but mentioning all this revives a tad of anger I have with Bob. He saw fit to mention in his books other minor problems I might have experienced. There was absolutely no reason for him to do that.
“Elmo, tell them who you are.”
“They know, my love. Bob mentioned me.”
Oh, okay. My names Elmo Sherwin and I’m a runner.
I guess she thinks I should say I’m a mathematician, but Bob’s already told you that. Hey, I know what she wants. Probably wants me to talk about some mathematics. Beautiful stuff, math, don’t you think?
I know the perfect subject: the Riemann Hypothesis. Of course you know the conjecture that the Riemann zeta function has its zeros only at…
“They don’t want to hear that, Elmo. Just tell them what we agreed.”
Oh, good idea. Wonderful woman, my Michelle. Have I said that? I’ll repeat exactly what she told me to say.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL.