Asymptomatic

The House Market

July 12, 2006

Our house has been on the market since Friday, but we did not schedule it for showings until Monday. Over the weekend, Jean called and left a message concerning an interested party from out of town that wanted to see our house on Sunday. We rushed through our preparations and vacated, beginning the tedious process that this week has become.

Because we had to cut short our preparations on Sunday, we never really got to complete them. We’ve had showings of the house every night since then, so there hasn’t been any reprieve. As an example of the trouble this is causing, our air conditioner filter once again requires cleaning, since it has gotten to the point that the air is no longer cooled. This being another hot week, everyone seeing the house will now have to do so in 80+ degree temperatures.

Really, all that is required to fix the problem is cleaning the fliter, which I did last night. But with the house already so hot, it’ll take a while for it to cool off today after putting the dried filters back into the system this morning. And then the A/C service guy is supposed to come to service the thing this afternoon, so it’ll be shut down again. And I’m sure that he’ll cost us another hundred dollars or so.

Flipping Out

July 11, 2006

I had gone to Richland Mall with a few folks from college as one of our usual avoidances of classwork. We had finished our tour of the one-level “ranch” mall and were standing in a small group near the planters outside of the Waldenbooks.

I don’t recall why we were loitering instead of just leaving the place, but as we stood around I removed a nickel from my pocket and began to flip it into the air and catch it. I set the nickel on the side of my bent finger and flicked it into the air with my thumbnail, each time simply catching the coin and replacing it to flick again.

A boy at the entrance of the bookstore took interest in my flipping, and stood there alone, watching. I flipped quite a few times, catching, replacing, until one time an errant flip sent the coin just out of my grasp. The nickel fell to the floor and rolled a foot or two toward the boy before I managed to step on it and stop its progression.

I looked at the boy, who looked up from my foot-covered coin, and I smiled at him as I picked up my foot and retrieved the coin. Thinking better than to flip the coin into the hallway again, I put the coin in my pocket and returned to my group of friends. The boy ran off, and I didn’t think anything of it.

I few moments later when I wasn’t paying much attention, the boy had returned. A woman I didn’t know was addressing me: “Give my son back his money.”