First off this is a work of fiction. If you think that they should have done something differently, congratulation you have an idea for a story now go and write it. Covid 19 can be a scary thing for people and I don't want to minimalize it. Fantasy is fun. Play safe everyone.
"Dirk you have a choice, take the resident job or we'll have to lay you off during the epidemic."
"Fuck, you're firing me?"
"Dirk, we are trying to protect our residents and staff. It's not about you."
"How am supposed to survive if I say no?"
"I know there is some funding for those laid off, but you'll have to look into that yourself."
"It sounds like you're hanging me out to dry if I don't agree."
"Dirk, I need you. John has a wife and two dogs so I can't ask him to stay here 24 - 7." Jack had a desperate look in his eye. I knew it was time to strike back with a demand.
"Okay Jack how much?"
"What do you mean how much?"
"You want me here 24 -- 7, how much extra do I get?"
"Hell, you're going to get free food and a roof over your head."
"I already have a roof over my head. I know you paid John standby."
"Okay fifty a day standby and your regular wage."
"Overtime if I have to do something."
"Dirk I can find someone else. I know what you guys do, adjust a thermostat here and there, unclog a drain or change a lightbulb. Anything big you call in a contactor and sit back to watch."
"So, no overtime?"
"I'll pay the first hour full for call-out and then half hour increments. Twenty-five bucks for changing a lightbulb is being pretty generous."
I must admit I've seen the call-in sheet; John usually has a call every second or third evening for an hour, it's a pretty good gig. If what they say about this pandemic is true, I won't be getting out anyways to play.
"Well I'm going to need to bring my stuff here if I'm staying."
"Just bring your clothes we're giving you a resident's room, it's furnished. "
"Fuck you're giving me a dead guys room?"
"He didn't die in his room. He's the guy that got hit by the bus."
Okay, I was just evil, because the first time I heard the story I had to laugh. You go through life just fine and then one day you get hit by that proverbial bus. Like who the hell does that happen to?
"Yeah but his family's not going to like someone else in his space."
"He had no family. You're lucky we were going to clear out his room, but then this happened. Now you've got a place to stay."
"Well let me check out the room so I know what I have to bring."
"That means you're going to do it?"
"Yeah I'll do it, provided his room isn't a hell hole."
John had told me about George he had worked in the recording industry, always said I should meet him. I guess that ship has sailed. George's place was over the recreation room. The story is they took the old social room and converted it to a suite when they built the atrium, George moved in and he's been there ever since.
We've all seen old people furniture and their tacky crap all over the place, so what could I expect. Fuck was I wrong. Everything was Scandinavian in design, beautiful teak, real fucking art on the walls. And then there was the alter. On top was the Oracle and bellow there was a McIntosh 240. Two of the most impressive speakers stood to the sides. I never heard of VonSchweikert, but from the looks of them they must sound good.
He may not have had family, but there are photos. Yeah these are photos to die for. Many have signatures on them like; "You make me sound good. Dave" Yeah, fucking Dave Brubeck! George is becoming my hero even though I never met him.
This live-in handyman job just got a whole lot better. The knock on the door takes me out of my trance. I can't let anyone see what is in here.
I open the door and start walking out, there is Jack and he has to take a step back, "Well it will do?"
"You need anything moved out?" Jack is trying to see around me.
"It's old guy stuff, but I'll make it work." I pull the door closed and lock it and start to walk toward the elevators.
"Yeah, the lady from the courts said it was clean, not her style but nice. I guess I should take a look."
"Another time, I have to go get my stuff."
"There will be a contract for you to sign tomorrow."
"Contract?"
"You think I won't get you to sign to our agreement? You agreed to no overtime and that has to be in writing."
"Oh, one thing. What do I do with his clothes?"
"Bag it up, everything will go to the thrift store."
"Everything?"
"Once this is over, they'll come in clean it out the suite, that way it doesn't cost me a penny."
"Smart you know how to save a buck or two." Yeah Jack you are just too smart for your own good. I had to smile to myself, no one would know that his stereo system went missing. Now to go get my stuff.
Old George was a genius. Dire Straits was something my dad would have listened to, but on this system, it was to die for. Never mind this whisky, Portwood Reserve damn it's smooth. Yeah, Money for Nothing, that's my new theme song,
Room 214 bathroom light out.
Damn text message! Fucking stupid lightbulb interrupting my evening. Some little old bitty is in the dark. I don't know how John put up with this.
"Hello, I'm here to fix the light."