The Hick Tromps Unquietly at 6:00 a.m.

Can you believe that Hick told me I lead a cushy life? I know, right? Coming from the La-Z-Boy who called the couch cushy!

Here’s the deal. I had the nerve to inform Hick, at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday, that I did not appreciate being woken just for him to say goodbye as he left for work.

“Great. I can see it now. A whole seven months of never getting to sleep in, just because I’m retired and you’re not.”

“Oh, come on. You can go right back to sleep.”

“No. It’s not that easy. Now I can’t get back to sleep. I’ll have to get up and start my chores.”

“Huh. Chores. You lead a cushy life.”

“ME? You are the definition of living the cushy dream! You don’t know how good you’ve got it, with me paying the bills as soon as they come in, and not putting antifreeze in your tea. You should be THANKING me for the life you lead. For LIFE.”

Let the record show that Hick says his previous wife hid the bills under the bed (which would explain the collection agency we paid off the first year after we were married) and put antifreeze in his iced tea every evening (which could explain why he was in the hospital for tests during their marriage).

“Well…okay. I AM alive, and you DO pay the bills. Oh! I need to call Cindy and see if they got my application.”

Let the record further show that Hick plans to get a job after he retires in December, just for something to do, and a little auction money, and he has his sights set on driving a pharmacy delivery car. He has even discussed the process with the employees at his drugstore, CeilingReds.

“Who’s Cindy?”

“A gal I know. She used to be married to a guy I know, then they got a divorce.”

“So…she works at CeilingReds?”

“No. She works at Casey’s.”

“What’s she got to do with an application? Did you apply at Casey’s?”

“No. At the pharmacy.”

“CeilingReds.”

“No. It’s another one. In the plaza.”

“There’s no drugstore in the plaza.”

“There is, but they don’t want people to know. They don’t even have up a sign.”

“That sounds SO sketchy.”

“No. They don’t want people to break in and steal the drugs.”

So, if you’re keeping up…Hick has put in an application (for when he retires in December) to work for a pharmacy that operates out of an unmarked building in Backroads Plaza, which has ZERO businesses open, having been closed for nigh on 15 years, ever since the movie theater and the Chinese restaurant next door folded a couple years after the grocery store, furniture store, and nightclub…and he is checking on whether that application has been received by Cindy, who works at the convenience store, Casey’s. Which is not even in the plaza.

Sometimes I think Hick is a government operative, deep undercover. I shall keep my ears pricked (heh, heh, I said PRICKed) for any caller-unknown messages like, “The fox trots quietly at midnight.”