The Miser

My lady friend’s landlord is a miser. My last landlord was a miser. My landlord before last was a miser, and the one before that. Maybe its just coincidence, or maybe being a miser is a prerequisite to being a landlord.

            I spent the morning trying to unplug my lady friend’s bathroom sink. Her landlord, who she shares the house with, is too cheap to hire a plumber to remedy the problem. Whenever my friend has problem, be it plumbing or otherwise, I’m pressed into service. It’s my own choice. It’s to give myself peace. Otherwise, I’ll have to listen to the constant complaining, the back and forth banter between the landlord and my friend. It approaches the ridiculous. 

This morning I ran a snake down the pipe to unclog the sink. I rubbed my hands raw trying get that snake down the pipe. My musical hands were to the point of blistering. I quickly became bitter and agitated when I realized that I was directly contributing to the behavior of a miser. My woman friend felt guilty when she saw me struggling with the snake. She kept patting me on the back while I was working and expressed how grateful she was for my efforts. After her third visit to me I simply told her to "get out!"

            I doesn’t pay to be a miser, it just increases your hardship and prolongs your problems. Fix it! Do it right! Pay a professional! Buy organic! If you take care of it, it goes away, if you pinch your pennies it stays with you, or even worse it comes back to haunt you again.

            I was on my way home when I received a text message from my friend, the text read, “guess what? The landlords sink is clogged too.”