No rest for the wicked weary! Hick got a call Friday night from a new resident of the senior apartments. He went out on the porch to talk to her. I tell him all the time how his phone doesn't work in the house. Everything he says is garbled, and there's a lag of about five seconds. He refuses to get up and move when I call, but he did for this lady. I guess she was having none of it, unlike Hick's cronies who struggle through with him repeating himself.
"What was that about?"
"The new lady who just moved in. She doesn't have electricity."
"I didn't think electricity was provided."
"It's NOT. I tell them that when they call about renting an apartment. It's in the papers they sign. THEY are responsible for the electric. She said the electric company wants $240 to turn it on."
"That seems like more than the usual deposit. I wonder if she owes them from a previous bill."
"Maybe. She said the lady across from her said she could run an electric cord for her, but I said no, don't do that!"
"Could it start a fire?"
"No. She was gonna use it for the air conditioner, but it won't plug in. That's 220 instead of 110. So it wouldn't work for that anyway."
"At least the weather has cooled off. Supposed to be a low in the 50s tomorrow. Highs in the 70s. You'd think that if her new friend across the hall really wants to help her, she could let her sleep on the couch or something."
"I don't know. But the electricity is HER responsibility, not ours. I can't help that."
Hick can't save the world. No matter how much he likes to help people.
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