What Part of No Don’t You Understand?

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Abstract

very bit of it. Besides, she was talking fast, and when a person is hard of hearing, it only makes it harder to understand if the person is talking fast. She talked quickly and not long, but the final part of her part of the act was to flourish her hand toward her partner who stood the closest to me.The next lady started talking faster than the first one. If you’ve ever heard of the routine, “Good Cop — Bad Cop” it was all a variation of that. Or a vaudeville team.I heard PG&E. I tried to interrupt, and the one in front of me was still talking. It’s times like this I wish I’d opened the door naked. That’s actually how a man/woman team of missionaries left the last time they talked to my husband at the house. He wasn’t exactly naked, but his shorts were falling down. I remember he stepped out on the patio. The woman started tugging on the man’s coat. They left quickly, and they’ve never been back.Finally, I madly waved my hands. I said to them, “Watch my mouth”I said, “ No, it’s too hot to talk.” It’s about 90°F outside right now. They bo

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th started talking. Fast. I heard one of them say with enthusiasm, “That’s what we’re talking about!”I waved my hands again to get their attention. Again, I pointed at my mouth. I said, “What part of NO don’t you understand?”I shut the door.Not much. Just enough to make me hotter.And, of course, it provided grist for the mill.I suppose people should bear that in mind when they are rude and overbearing to other people. Consider that person might be a writer, and whether you see yourself in print someday, know, that every single writer on the face of this green earth writes about what they know. And what they know might just be you. Like I said, it’s grist for the mill.Thanks for reading. Clap, follow, and <a href="https://pmevanosky.medium.com/subscribe">subscribe</a>, sort of like what they do on YouTube. Actually, if I was on YouTube, I suppose I’d start getting dressed. Right now, I’m perfectly happy in my jammies at 3:00 in the afternoon. One of the other advantages of being a writer.</article></body>

I Just Said That

The first time I realized something was afoot was when the doorbell rang in the downstairs unit. The next thing I knew, our doorbell rang. It takes me a while now to get up and walk to the front of the apartment. I’m old. It’s hard to walk. I take my time. I’m sure if there was a fire, I could run, but in this heat, I took my time.

In our neck of the woods, PG&E handles our power. It’s called Pacific Gas and Electric. So, the door rang. There were two young ladies standing outside. They started talking a mile a minute. First, the one standing farther away from the door spoke. She said her spiel, and since I have a hard time hearing, I missed every bit of it. Besides, she was talking fast, and when a person is hard of hearing, it only makes it harder to understand if the person is talking fast. She talked quickly and not long, but the final part of her part of the act was to flourish her hand toward her partner who stood the closest to me.

The next lady started talking faster than the first one. If you’ve ever heard of the routine, “Good Cop — Bad Cop” it was all a variation of that. Or a vaudeville team.

I heard PG&E. I tried to interrupt, and the one in front of me was still talking. It’s times like this I wish I’d opened the door naked. That’s actually how a man/woman team of missionaries left the last time they talked to my husband at the house. He wasn’t exactly naked, but his shorts were falling down. I remember he stepped out on the patio. The woman started tugging on the man’s coat. They left quickly, and they’ve never been back.

Finally, I madly waved my hands. I said to them, “Watch my mouth”

I said, “ No, it’s too hot to talk.” It’s about 90°F outside right now. They both started talking. Fast. I heard one of them say with enthusiasm, “That’s what we’re talking about!”

I waved my hands again to get their attention. Again, I pointed at my mouth. I said, “What part of NO don’t you understand?”

I shut the door.

Not much. Just enough to make me hotter.

And, of course, it provided grist for the mill.

I suppose people should bear that in mind when they are rude and overbearing to other people. Consider that person might be a writer, and whether you see yourself in print someday, know, that every single writer on the face of this green earth writes about what they know. And what they know might just be you. Like I said, it’s grist for the mill.

Thanks for reading. Clap, follow, and subscribe, sort of like what they do on YouTube. Actually, if I was on YouTube, I suppose I’d start getting dressed. Right now, I’m perfectly happy in my jammies at 3:00 in the afternoon. One of the other advantages of being a writer.