"The Maintenance Guy" drabbles by Rusty McCaugh
The Maintenance Guy Pt. 2
The Maintenance Guy
The old maintenance guy handed me the keys to the garage one day, kissed his two fingers inna peace sign, wiped it against his ass and drove off in his 1993 silver Ford Tauras. He'd won the lottery. It was a sign of true freedom inna "True American Town". Good thing I knew tools or I woulda been fucked workin' here. I was already fucked regardless. I had no HVAC certification. I couldn't work on a damn thing when it came to heating and cooling. When alluva sudden a guy pulled up lookin' for a job. His name was Eddie.
The Maintenance Guy
The Maintenance Guy
The damn crew of mine can't do a damn thing right around here. The place I work and place I live. This apartment complex in Romulus, fucking Michigan. I'm on the second floor, buildin' six. Room 511. You'd think my number would'a been in the 200's, but it ain't. This whole place is screwy. Moved here from West Virginia, I'ma hillbilly. On my eighteenth birthday, I grabbed my shotgun, fishing rod, knife, clothes and stormed outta my parents' place. That was seventeen years ago. I'm thirty-five now. Stilla hillbilly. Head of maintenance here and have been since oh-three.
