A 20 minute political conversation about Franklin D Roosevelt is enough to make anyone a little edgy.
Add to that a buttload of caffeine and you have the recipe for a hostage situation.
It seemed like just another day.
And then Leonard came into my life.
I didn’t ask for Leonard, Leonard just happened.
Like a bad case of the shits.
“You sure got some nifty electronics.”
Its a pretty harmless phrase as far as opening lines go.
But the word nifty should have tipped me off.
Leonard is not just a retiree, hell, Leonard’s son retired 10 years ago.
Do the math, the man farts dust.
Old dust at that.
And he is just mezmerized by my laptop.
Lets take a look.
The hair is white and thick.
Not all old guys go bald, some go bushy.
The hair, the ears, the eyebrows, and of course, the nose.
Everything spews bushy white hair.
And trust me on this one, bushy white nose hair is creepy shit that Stephen King hasn’t even thought of.
And he has a new book.
That he wants to share with me.
I played the basic brush off, avoiding eye contact, grunting replies and just hunkering down into my laptop.
This is the Starbucks version of falling to the ground and playing dead in the hopes that Leonard will sniff my supposed dead carcass and leave me alone.
NOT GONNA HAPPEN.
He forges on with a determination that John Wayne would envy.
The next 5 minutes was what I call “The First Facts”:
- He was the first president to speak on television.
- He was the first president whose mother was allowed to vote for him.
- He was the first president to fly in an airplane.
Then, in a masterstroke of annoying verbiage, he launched into 5 minutes of somewhat creepy shit I did not want to know about FDR:
- His mother made him wear a dress till he was 5.
- He was related to 11 other presidents. (Ok, maybe not creepy, but righteous conspiracy theory shit yourself stuff.)
- He had a mistress that Eleanor Roosevelt told him never to see again, so he didn’t, not till he was on his deathbed. And his daughter helped set him up with the mistress.
And you would think he would just let it go, what with my soul having been drained out of me during the last 10 minutes.
Not so Leonard.
The knock out punch came at the end of it all, when I was just about to pack up and leave, he opened his FDR book to a page showing Eleanor Roosevelt.
I had just taken a large gulp of coffee when he informed me that Eleanor Roosevelt was a MILF. (He must have a grandson)
I managed to spit coffee about 6 feet.
Good morning Leonard.
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