I get a knock on the door the other night about ten or eleven. I don’t trust nobody coming to the house that time of night so I go ahead and get out the ol’ Ruger .22...that sure is a nice gun. You ever see that gun?... I go to the door and ask who it is...damn if it wasn’t just ol’ Mr. Stewart from next door. You know him? Milton Stewart? Ol’ guy that lives next to me? Retired. Doesn’t do anything but mow his lawn until it turns into dirt and watch tv all day. Nice guy...but kinda old and forgetful.
I about scared the pee out of him with my gun in my hand. You gotta watch swinging them things around old farts like that...might give ‘em a heart attack. I asked him why the hell he’s coming over to the house so late. I thought maybe he locked himself out of his house again on account of his old timers disease...come to find out he just needed some damn batteries for his tv remote. Said he was trying to catch the last bit of the Braves game but accidentally changed the channel and couldn’t get the remote to work again.
All the stores in town were closed and he didn’t want to drive up to Griffin just to get batteries in the middle of the night. I can’t blame ‘em. I hate driving up to Griffin, day or night. Poor old guy. I know how it is...ain’t nothing worse than running out of damn batteries. Them things are expensive. Hell, if it were up to me I’d change the channels on the TV with a big ol’ stick...but the wife would never let that fly.
I learned my lesson with batteries early on...damn kids come in and steal ‘em all. So I go out every now and again and buy a bunch of the cheap ones and throw them down in the sofa cushions for safe keeping. Deep down where little fingers can’t reach...in the gross parts where I know the wife ain’t gonna stick her hand. I even crush up a couple of old crackers and pull out some beard hairs and sprinkle them on top so nobody will touch ‘em.
I went ahead pulled one of them batteries out for ol’ Milton. Then he looks at me and says he needs two. I can’t stand it when old folks get all greedy like that...ain’t like I don’t already pay his damn social security...
Next day ol’ Milton asks me to come over and have a beer and watch the Braves with him. Afternoon game. You better believe when that game was over and he got up to go to the bathroom I took my batteries right back out of his remote. Ain’t my fault he had to go and ask for two...I’d feel bad but them things are expensive. He won’t remember any damn way...with the old timers disease and all.