I was just doing what I usually do, minding my own business, when there was a knock at the door. **Who could that *be, I thought—and as I wasn’t dressed for the world, I called out for the person to wait while I quick got a robe.
“It’s Jerry,” the person on the other side of the door told me when I asked, and I recognized him as the one who mounted my flat-screen TV on the wall. **What could he *want, I wondered as I opened the door. “Your neighbor’s sink is clogged,” he told me, “so yours likely is as well. I’m going to have to check your kitchen sink.” So I let him in, and he poured down drain cleaner.
When I got my TV put up, I remember the building administrator being impressed with how good it looked—until I told her who had done the work. “It hasn’t fallen down—yet.” (That was a year ago, and it’s still there.)
Of our two main maintenance guys—Tom and Jerry—Jerry’s the one I respect. He doesn’t just act like he works hard. Neither does he merely supervise.
I used to think another maintenance worker, Royce, was just as competent—but now I have my doubts. To give one example, let’s use the drain: after the day my sink overflowed after rinsing dishes, I called down to have someone look at the drain. Royce concluded that the drain was open, and he left.
He’s one of the nicest men you’ll ever meet—but he does a rush job so that he can move on to the next thing.
So, although I don’t see Jerry often, I’m always happy to see him. I know he’ll do the job right—the first time.
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(1) Young I may be, but even young people are entitled to their opinions.
(2)Attempting to silence me doesn't hurt me, but the silencer.
(3) I must remain true to myself.