The Weekday One Hundred

The Deck Job

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I pounded on the back door, the cheap fiberglass vibrating under the weight of my meaty fist.

My first solo shakedown. I planned on making an impression.

The door opened a crack. Out came a bald head and watery eyes.

“Yeah?” he whined. The audacity.

I grabbed him by the collar, yanked him onto the deck. But I didn’t clock the lead pipe, and my left knee paid the price.

I howled while the weasel scampered into the woods.

I hobbled after but knew it was a lost cause.  

My first failed solo shakedown. Boss wasn’t going to be happy.