The AC Guy
My childhood was not your normal, typical childhood. As most kids were chumming around with others, I ended up spending most of my time at home, or with my dad or uncles. Interestingly enough, I went a number of times with my dad to his favorite hangout; a friend of his operated a gas station that was frequented by truckers. So, by the age of 13, I had been exposed to every known word in the book, along with stealing some glances at the magazines that they had there. Seemed like some of them used used “fuck” for every other word coming out of their mouths. Needless to say, this left me with an idle curiosity of women as a whole.
As I grew older, my dad started taking me on jobs with him; he ran an air conditioning business on the side. One of his clients was the apartment complex next to the high school I was going to. I’d go with him on these jobs, helping him out with the ladders, installing Freon, swapping out compressors, etc. Occasionally, we’d have to go into the apartments to make sure that the air conditioner would kick on and cool down the apartments.
Well, one day there was a problem with the air conditioner in apartment #2301. Needless to say, since it was a saturday, I went with dad to help him. We’d went to the apartment manager’s office to get the work order, and then proceeded to the apartment. When we got there, we found that there was a leak on the roof, and that it would require only a small soldering job, along with filling up the unit with more Freon. After doing this, we went down to the apartment itself, and knocked on the door. A woman, I’d say in her late twenties, answered the door. We told her that we had worked on the air conditioner, and wanted to check to make sure that it was cooling her apartment. She invited us in, and let us go to the thermostat. My dad started to play with the controls, as I just scanned my eyes around the room. She seemed to be into computers, and music (which was my pastime; I was programming in three different languages, and enjoyed computer music/synthesizers). We started to get into a conversation, and then wouldn’t you know — dad said all looked okay and that we should go. As we were leaving, the girl gave me a slip of paper. Not thinking anything about it, I put it into my pocket.
