For What?

Today I delivered a hospital bed to a guy who wasn't expecting it. His wife knew it was coming, and his son had arranged the whole thing, but nobody had let the guy in on the secret. From what I could gather, the man is not a big fan of change.

As a lugged 275 pounds of stuff up the stairs (why does nobody live on the ground floor?) I could hear the guy spouting fury from his bedroom.

I set the foot section down and, "What they hell are they bringing up here, God damned sons of bitches!"

The head section goes into place: "What's all this stuff?! Are they trying to build a new house?! Stupid bastards!"

I set the mattress in the hall and, "Why is he doing this now? God, damn him! God, damn his soul to hell!"

When somebody tells God to damn me, and really means it, I see that as being a little mean. And I know where he would like God to damn me. I'm not assuming he means that I should be damned to Dairy Queen. But even so, to carry the thought to conclusion, to damn my soul to hell out loud, that's just uncalled for.

Though to be fair, all this yelling was conducted inside the bedroom while I was stacking bed parts in the hallway and while he was struggling with his pants. When he finally achieved a full state of dress and made it outside to the hallway, he didn't seem to hold any malice toward me. "Who's that?" He asked. "Somebody you've hired to do something?"

Maybe he's just in a bad mood in the morning until after his first cup of pants.