Cut Me Mick

  I drove up the nice hill to the nice house with the nice driveway.  Before I even got to the nice door to meet the nice lady, I already knew that the stain on the concrete porch that she was referring to was hot chocolate.  

I rang the doorbell.  She seemed surprised to see a guy like me.  I was dressed about as stylishly dysfunctional as imaginable.  I guess she had formed a different impression of me during our 45 minute phone conversation.

She asked me again if I thought it was possible to remove the coffee stain.  I told her with conviction that it wasn’t coffee.  She asked how I knew.  I told her that I am The King, and that I knew things about things.

She was impressed, and paid me $200 cash upfront to remove the stain.  An hour later I gave the money back to her because I determined that it was a Mocha.  She offered me up a four course breakfast for my honesty.  I was spent. 

I did the unthinkable this spring and summer.  Mentally, Physically, and Spiritually.  I went to a deep dark place, where Shawshank Redemption and The Karate Kid got played over and over and over.  And I was over it.