Part 13: POINT, Feb 10

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by peteybee46

by peteybee46

POINT
Feb 10

I am Amos Trotter, a widower living in Shady Rest Assisted Living. One of my best friends is Patrick Johnson. His room is on the other side of the facility, which is good and one reason I have not bumped the little twerp off. He has an endearing way of annoying the crap out of me. Like the conversation we had recently.

"Morning Amos. 'Sup?"

"Sup? What are you fourteen?"

"Now Amos," he said unfazed by my barb, "don't be obtuse. You know you have hyperextension. Don't want you to pop a cork."

"Hypertension," I said.

"What?"

"The word is 'hypertension' " I repeated.

"Yeah, that. Wouldn't want you doing a colliery."

I sighed, "a coronary you mean?"

"What?"

"If you are still on the possible heart maladies I think you mean coronary."

"Yeah, that's probably it Amos. You must be a vocabulary protégée."

I sighed. "I think you mean prodigy"

"What?"

"I said... never-mind Patrick. What's the point?"

I am never sure if he does this intentionally just to aggravate me, or if he is actually that far off plumb. He's never dull, I'll give him that.