The Comcast Man

                                        

  ---  THE COMCAST MAN  ---

Everyone's aware, you can't help but know, about WOKE and Black Lives Matter, right?  I've never had any problems in that area, more than one of my friends was African-American.   One such beautiful lady, was Allie, she'd preen, she was fixy, and she was in my wedding.

Now this Friday morning, I sat on my couch watching the piney squirrel raid the bird feeder UPSIDE DOWN!  His head was away from me, his body's furry back hung to the ground, and his brown butt was aiming at me and his tail was doing the swish-swish-swish as he feasted on seeds.  I was gonna take him out!

When Antony, the Comcast repair man, came to the door he was tall, he was young, he was friendly and energetic, and he was black.  I never gave it a thought.  He came in, got on his hands and knees to peer under my cabinet at the router with his phone's flashlight, and pulled it out with all the dirt and dust bunnies hanging on. He went through the family room and investigated the t.v. and all the cords and connections, asked questions, I answered.  He sat in my green computer chair swiveling while he contacted his superiors by phone to get qualifiying numbers and digital reconnections and the final okay.

Later his manager was to come and approve his work.

"We're good to go," he said.

He smiled and bid me good bye.

Before I shut the door, I smiled and said, "Thank you very much, I'm glad to have this done."

He walked across the deck and down the stoop.

I stepped to the sliding glass door to bid him a final adieu.

He and his white service truck pulled away.

Then my heart dropped.

I may have made a social blunder, a faux pas.

Fingers drumming lips, cogitating, I worried, "Did he see?  What did Antony make of THAT?"

As I walked to that glass door for a final wave, I spied it.  There next to me on the back of the love seat, in it's beautious steeled glory with its nose facing towards the great outdoors, lay my black BB gun pistol!