Weird Text

 I received a text today from an unknown number.

Them: Hey.

Bathwater: Hello, who is this?

Them: Billie

Bathwater: New number? How have you been?

Them: I've been good wbu

Bathwater: I've been good. 

Bathwater: Everything okay?

I tried sending her an image of the cat at this point, and it didn't go through. It seemed weird. I sent the exchange to Tinkerbell, saying, "I got a text from Billie. Then she disappeared."

Tinkerbell: I don't think it is her. It could be the boyfriend seeing if you two still talk to each other. She might be messing around on him, and he wants to find out who. 

It started me thinking she could be right. Billie's name is not that common and is spelled uniquely. 

Tinkerbell gave me a laundry list of her suspicions and suggested I either call the new number or the old one. I decided to try Billie's old number. She answered right away.

"Hey, I got a text from someone on a new number today, claiming to be you."

"That's weird. It wasn't me," Billie replied.

"Well, it seemed unusual, so I thought I'd give this number a call."

Billie seemed perplexed by it too. at least she didn't allude to anything. "Hey, I'd really like to catch up with you, but I am in traffic now. Can I call you back later tonight? Or later this week?"

"Sure, I love to catch up."

I'm sure you can imagine the million different thoughts running through my head right now.

Fire House

I must admit, I did a lot of laying around and eating this weekend. Saturday, I learned my friend Sam's dad passed away Monday. She texted me an image of a chrome cigarette lighter with the Traffic Light logo, an ancient strip club in the area. Sam told me she found it while cleaning out her dad's house, and that is when she told me of his passing.

I met up with Sam on Sunday evening at the Firehouse, a bar in Mt. Clemens. It is what the name implies. A converted fire station that was turned into a bar. It is also coincidentally only two miles away from the Traffic Light if that bar survived the past year. I'd never been to the Firehouse before (or the Traffic Light, for that matter). I sat at the bar close to the entrance, so I did not take in much of the room, but there did not seem to be much of the old fire station or its memorabilia remaining.

Sam ordered an appetizer and ate. I drank a few beers and listened to the details of her father's death. It has been a while since we've gone out together to eat. The conversation is somber. We are facing our own diminishing years. It is unlikely I will see a grandchild become an adult. Max is twenty-two. Hopefully, he is still years away from having children of his own. 

I don't want to get old, I mean really old. My father was eighty when he passed away. I like to think I am in better health than he was at my age, but eighty is still too long. 

I think Sam is feeling lost. For the past several years, Taking care of her parents has consumed much of her free time. Now she will have more time for herself, and she doesn't know what to do with it. I can relate to that. Enjoy the moments. That is all we can do.

Asshole

 For those wondering what happened to Firefly, she was here for a few days last week.  She was in terrible shape when she got here- sleep-deprived and tweaking. She said she just needed a couple days to make a plan. She never came up with a plan.

She likes staying here but doesn't put any effort into securing the living arrangement. Once she started feeling better, she wanted to leave. It started an argument. She wanted to see the old boyfriend. The one she was doing meth with back in January when she wrecked her car. The one who is only 4 months clean (he thinks it has been six months) and has plenty of legal issues from that period. I told her to take all her stuff with her, and she did. 

The boy's family and friends do not want him seeing Firefly. Firefly accused me of getting in touch with his mom. I haven't. I don't care. I told her I was glad she was with him, now she is his problem. I did warn him the night of the argument. I told him he was wasting his time and that he was just one of many.

He is just a convenient tool for her to cling to because she doesn't have anyone else. "You say everyone gives up on you," I said. "At some point, you should look at yourself as the issue. You are an asshole."

Saturday

Firefly: I've been sober this whole time (four days), and I'm happier than ever.

Bathwater: Good for you. Now leave me alone.

Firefly: Glady. Good luck finding a new me.

Bathwater: Why would I want to find that?

A Conversation on Bumble

 A fifty-three-year-old woman messaged me on Bumble this week. Her profile says she is a widow. Her husband died four years ago. She enjoys college football, concerts, plays, travel, and hanging out at home with someone special.

Though she is three years younger than me, she looks older, and my photos are not filtered like hers. She is not an ideal match, but I go along with the conversation and give it a chance for the sake of being open-minded.

Katie: Hi, how's it going.

Bathwater: Hey, I'm good. Are you enjoying the snow?  :) I was hoping it would be 75 soon.

Katie: Good morning. Not at all! I was hoping to be lying in the sun soon.

Bathwater: I know! I get my second vaccine shot today. I was hoping to be all set and ready for summer.

Katie: I had my second one on April 13th.

Bathwater: So what are you looking to do this summer?

Katie: Everything! I'm hoping concerts and sporting events will be open.

(I read this as she needs to be entertained.)

Bathwater: It would be nice to see a concert again. I am looking forward to getting out on my bicycle. That is only weather-dependent, so it should happen soon.

Katie: Nice

(At this point, her answers get short. Not a good way to spark interest.)

Her profile says she works as an office manager at a dental office. So I say.

Bathwater: So you must be working in the office full time now. We haven't started doing that at my office yet. I'm not looking forward to going back to the commute. There is no point.

Katie: No, I am retired.

(I am thinking, 'At fifty-three? the husband must have left you a nice pension and life insurance policy.')

Bathwater: What do you do now that you have free time?

Katie: Anything I want.

(I take this to mean--nothing at all. She needs to be entertained. This conversation is just another source of entertainment for her, and I have lost interest.)

Bathwater: I am not ready to retire, but last year, I managed to take a 24-day road trip across the southwest. We visited several national parks. I wrote and published a novel and put in about 400 miles on my bike despite Covid.

Katie: Nice.

That is where I am leaving it. There is no point. I don't find her the least bit entertaining or unique.

Shots, Shots, Shots,

 It snowed Tuesday night. Just enough to cover the lawn. The temperature will only hit the low forties today. We won't see seventy until next Tuesday. I've been struggling with my weight these last two months. Seems like the more I workout, the more I want to eat. Hopefully, summer will stop that.

I jumped into the truck and headed to the county health building. I watched melting snow dripping from the truck in front of me at a traffic light.  This is April in Michigan. Unlike my first shot, there were no lines. My forward progress was as fast as I could walk. One of the volunteers suggested they were busy. It was just the time of day, around noon, that was a lull. I think things are slowing down.

People like Firefly are not getting the vaccine, claiming medical issues. I believe there are a lot of people with medical issues. Must are self-induced. On the radio, they were talking about a pill to cure obesity being developed in Australia. That would only create a bunch of unhealthy skinny people.

Honey-do

 My friends Alexis and Sam live together with Alexis' mother and teenage son.  Both are divorced women in their early fifties. I went to their house on Sunday to help with a honey-do list Alexis had.  I installed a screen over the door wall that allows the dog to enter and replaced the existing doorbell with a Ring doorbell. Those went well without incident. 

She wanted me to replace a few drop ceiling tiles in the basement. Several had water stains on them. I've never dealt with drop ceiling tiles, but I knew how to cut and shape half tiles from when I researched them when considering doing the same in my basement.  I am glad I decided to paint the ceiling black instead. 

Four tiles need replacing. Only one was a complete tile. One required cutting a round opening for a light fixture, and two others were half pieces. The circular hole came out perfect, but one of the half pieces gave me trouble. It didn't want to lay flat for some reason, but Alexis was fine with the results. 

After I went and washed the Gladiator. I am anxious to take the doors and top off this summer. I can't wait for a few warm days! When it hits 75 degrees, I will be striping them off. The wench I used for taking the top off my silver Jeep is not in the best position for removing the top of the Gladiator because of the bed, but the Gladiator's top is smaller and lighter, so I think I can make it work. I am eager to see if I can make it work without moving it.

I am trying to increase my posts. I'd like to get up to fifteen per month, so these might sound a bit more mundane. The truth is, nothing of interest is happening right now. I suppose that is a good thing. 

I had Max take photos of some of my lego creations while he was here Saturday. He has the ability to replace the green screen background with pure black. I will post them once he gets them back to me. I used to do this myself, but I cannot load the software on my work computer. I need to break down and buy myself a new home computer. 

Saturday Walk

 T-Rex is still dating his girlfriend on my side of town. Saturday, Tinkerbell was driving him over to her house, and she gave me a call. "Hey, do you want to go for a walk?

I just stepped out of the shower after an hour on my bike downstairs. "Actually, yes, I need more exercise," I tell her.

She came over, and we walked the neighborhoods near me. The temperature was in the mid-fifties, but the sun was shining, and it made for a nice day. We chatted while we walked. Catching up on the latest news. Tinkerbell works at a workshop for disabled adults. She told me Covid is running through the classes. Her bosses are reluctant to tell the parents and guardians. The company needs the money. 

Tinkerbell teaches over zoom.  She is sequestered in her office all day and does not interact with the in-house classes. This is a good thing because she has not gotten her vaccination yet. She is afraid of needles.

Later, my son Max came over. We ordered carryout from The Detroit Wings Company. It has been ages since I've had boneless wings. 

Max has two 3D printers now.  He has printed tons of figures.  I suggest he make some money off of them, but he is not interested. Still, I am glad he is keeping up with technology.  He has not gotten his vaccine yet either. He is just dragging his feet. TheEx is an anti-vacer, but I don't think her thinking has rubbed off on him.  I get my second dose the Wednesday.  I am looking forward to it.