(CHAPTER II) I NEED A GUY

No, no, not a man, ladies and gentlemen, a GUY.  Your mind needs to be a bit more north of your belt buckle or elastic waistband, whichever you’re wearing.   A ‘GUY’.  You know, someone who’s handy and can do stuff around the house, in this case, my house.  Someone, of course, who does quality work for economical (meaning cheap) rates.  Do you have someone who fits the description and you want to rent out for a few hours here and there?  Send ‘em here, please, SCA, South Park.

I had a GUY.  Actually, I started out dating this man I’ll call Barry, who eventually worked his way from being my Significant Other to just being my GUY.  We dated, on and off, mostly off I think, for about 3 years.  About my height, 5’ 8”, again for the metrically-enabled, about 1.8 meters tall, absolutely white hair (but tinged yellow from constant smoking for 50+ years) and enough for him to sculpt into a frozen coiffure, loaded with pomade and reminding me of The Columbia Ice Fields.  Every hair carefully combed into its rightful place, it would drive me wild to see Barry spend more time on his hair than I did on mine.  Everyone has a foible or two and that was his.  I used to love seeing him with his hair ‘au naturel’ and maybe just a hint of stubble on his square jaw but it didn’t happen often. 

Anyhoo, our personal relationship limped to its timely end and Barry went on to live with a woman I’ll call Bridgit, in the really north country, up Coldwater way.  Somehow, Bridgit and I became friends.  Besides having Barry in common, we were also unemployed at the same time, due to being forced out of jobs (different places) that we did well.

 

It’s great when you’re dating a handyman type of guy, ‘cause payment for their services is usually returned with a service of a different, horizontal kind.  Of course, it’s not really about ‘paying’ when you’re dating someone, it’s just the way it works out and for once, the woman comes out on top.  Stuff gets done and she has fun paying the bill.  Now that Barry and I are ‘just friends’ and he is still my GUY, I have to pay him, in the vertical, and from the pocketbook.  Having a GUY closer to home would also be a bonus.  Barry’s travel time is breaking the bank.

Someone I know and love had the courage to break out of an abusive relationship and bought her own place, a really nice mobile home in a great location on Lac St. Louis in Quebec.  Brenna’s been on a roller coaster of dips and highs for the past year and a half, and on the verge of selling out and moving into an apartment.  It’s tough being on your own, especially when you’re broke and GUYless.  Her next door neighbour has been so helpful doing stuff for her but is now planning to move.  So she decided to attempt some of the things on her own.

The gutters just about killed her.  Ten hours going up and down the ladder, heat, bugs, icky standing water, typical gutter crud, and skinned knees from the shingles, you name it, Brenna experienced it.  Despair was building, I could hear it in her voice.  Then one day, she announced she had found a GUY.  How wonderful.  Not only has she found someone who could do just about anything, he’s reasonable and mostly reliable.  Lucky duck.  Then she found another GUY.  So now she has a backup GUY.  How lucky can one woman get?  I’m green! 

So, if you know anyone who fits the bill and can be my ‘GUY’ here in South Park, Sandy Cove Acres, please let me know by ‘Adding Comment’, which can be found at the bottom of this chapter and include contact information.  Thank you in advance.

                                            

                                                               My GUY