Harvard Tom Addendum

I was driving down the hill in my convertible when I noticed an attractive young woman washing her car in front of the plumber’s house. She was wearing a pair of black workout shorts and a black workout top. She had a water hose in her hand and was hosing the suds off her car. She was all legs from a distance, and more legs as I approached. The car wash scene from Cool Hand Luke came to mind as I neared.

The woman paused to look at me as I drove by. It occurred to me that Harvard Tom had it wrong. It was the plumber’s house that he was thinking of when he mentioned the pretty lady, not the house next store. I was thinking she was the plumber's daughter, or the plumber's wife, but it was pure conjecture on my part.  

Was Harvard Tom trying to trick me? He did go to Harvard. Some of the best criminal minds have come from Harvard. Is he that smart? Naah!

Harvard Tom

  I ran into Harvard Tom. I sent him an email about a man in a maroon Sports Utility Vehicle that was parking on the hill. The man just sat in his car for hours, and he was doing it every night for a couple of weeks. I thought it was odd.
                 Harvard Tom is a National Rifle Association member. I was hoping he’d dust off his gun and show his metal, or at least show an interest. He didn’t. He didn’t even reply to my email.

  Tom and I were talking. I was explaining my email to him. He seemed interested. Then, a good-looking woman walked by. Tom craned his neck toward her mid-sentence to get a better look. He lost his train of thought and the conversation was interrupted while he gawked.

  “Wow! The neighborhood is really picking up,” he said. Have you seen the lady down the street?

  “No.
                  “She lives next door to the plumber. She’s gorgeous.”

             A couple of days later I was walking down the hill when I passed the house Tom had mentioned. There was a young woman in her twenties walking down the driveway. She was a heavier woman. It looked like she was working on her second chin. That's Tom's girl I figured. I tried to slim her down in my mind, to trick myself to her beauty. It didn't work. I guess Harvard Tom likes them big I gathered. Real big.

The Money Transfer

I paid Bill the Google Master a visit. There was a worried look on Bill’s mechanic Sergio’s face. Bill was out of funds and was waiting for a money transfer from Germany to clear. Bill sold a 1964 Ford Galaxy station wagon, but without the money he couldn’t pay Sergio his salary. 

Sergio’s rent was overdue, and there was a three-hundred dollar ticket he needed to pay. Sergio was all nerves. He was biting his nails and shaking his legs as we sat and talked. Bill and I showed no mercy. We took it upon ourselves to tease Sergio for worrying.   

"What are you worried about? You’re not going to jail.” Bill said.

             “You don’t mess with tickets, that’s the one thing you don’t mess with, you pay tickets on time,” Sergio said angrily.

“There’s no room for you in jail, even if they wanted you, there’s no place to put you.” I said. 

“Just show up to court with a sling, and a cane,” Bill said.

             Sergio was not amused. He was still biting his nails and shaking his legs.