Gilbert called my parents and asked if I could come over to help him. He was an elderly retired gentlemen whom my parents had befriended at my church. Since I was desperately in need of spending money and Gilbert was so generous with my older brother, I consented. Spending time with elderly men was not something that appealed to me, but I convinced myself that I could do a good deed and be well paid, too.
Much to my chagrin, the air conditioning unit in Gilbert's tiny apartment was malfunctioning. The old man seemed completely embarrassed that cool air was not coming out of the vents.
"I've been complaining all day," said Gilbert, "But it seems I'm not the only one complaining."
The wispy hairs on his head did not hide his pained expression. In the back of my mind, I started to wonder if Gilbert was expecting my older brother instead. Sure, Gilbert would put his hands on his knees whenever he got a chance, but it was his older brother who bragged about the money he would receive from Gilbert. I felt a twinge of envy. Unfortunately, Gilbert picked up on my feelings.
"Do you want to come back another time?" said Gilbert, "I can pay you today so you can come back whenever they get the air conditioning fixed."
The old man had a wad bills in his hand. His other hand held the straps of his bathrobe. To my surprise, Gilbert did not appear to be a wilting flower of an old man. In fact, I could see some muscle definition underneath the bathrobe. Gilbert immediately noticed that I was checking out his bathrobe.
"Sorry," said Gilbert, "I'm not dressed."
"It's really hot in here," I said, "I see why you're not dressed."
"Does that bother you?" asked Gilbert.
Sure, it was creepy that an old man was standing in front of me with a bathrobe, but I did not want to offend the old man. I guess I was too focused on the wad of cash in his hand. With much bravado, I shrugged my shoulders. I reached behind me and shut the door and locked it.
"No," I said, "But your neighbors might not like it."
Gilbert laughed.
"You're such a good sport," said Gilbert.
The old man patted me on the shoulder.
"Your brother always had a problem with me in my bathrobe," said Gilbert.
"Really?" I asked.
Without asking, Gilbert shoved the cash into my hands and walked off.
"What else can you tell me about my brother?" I asked.
The old man turned around. With a twinkle in his eyes, Gilbert pointed to the refrigerator.
"Your brother had a problem with me drinking," said Gilbert, "You can help yourself to a beer or two. In fact, grab me one, too."
"You don't have to tell me twice," I said.
Even though alarm bells were ringing in my head, I was happy to drink someone else's beer. Before long, Gilbert and I were sharing some cold refreshing adult beverages. The old man just wanted someone to dust off around the house. After a beer or two, I was happy to oblige.
"Look," said Gilbert, "There's no point in you getting sweat all over your clothes."
"It's okay," I said.
"If it makes you feel any better," said Gilbert, "There's another bathrobe. It's behind the bathroom door."
By this time, there was a warm feeling in my stomach and buzz in my head. I was determined to earn the money that I had stashed into my jeans pocket.
"I don't need a bathrobe," I said.
Gilbert seemed puzzled.
"Besides," he said, "There's no one here but us."
"What you saying?" I asked, "I trust you won't tell anyone."
Gilbert nodded.
"I won't tell a soul," said Gilbert, "I know you have to protect your reputation with the guys."
I sighed.
"Relax," I said, "Most of the guys don't want anything to do with a loser like me anyway."
"Do you think you're a loser?" asked Gilbert.
I shrugged.