Friday, February 18, 2005

Tales of the Shut-Ins

Just so you don't go home for the weekend with no snark in hand, consider this: we used to visit a pair of brothers, both getting up there in years, both deaf as mules. They lived in the same house they'd grown up in, and which had literally not been redecorated since the 1940s or so.


It was always tough to go see them: you'd bang on the door until you practically broke a knuckle, and still they wouldn't hear you. And once you got in the house, you'd have to deal with stale cigar smoke, dust, and awful lighting (one brother was blind, too, and bright lights hurt his eyes). Still, you couldn't ask for a sweeter pair of guys.


Well, one time, we happened to catch one of the brothers standing by the front door. So he let us in, and asked us to have a seat while he called his brother upstairs.


Which he proceeded to do, at the top of his lungs: "HEY GODFREY!! C'MON DOWN!! THE PASTOR'S HERE!" "He'll be here in just a minute," he told us, and then thinking about it, he shouted up the stairs once more: "AND PUT SOME PANTS ON!!"

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