Mostly True Memoirs
In the interest of not being pathetic and dependent, I asked Bob to show me how to mow the lawn.
Last week he showed me, and this week I did it myself.
I know that my rows were not up to the razor-straight standards that he demands.
Some of the rows were downright wobbly.
All I could think of was that scene in True Detective where Woody Harrelson gets up in Matthew McConaughey’s face and snarls at him threateningly, “You don’t mow another man’s lawn.”
I’m a little concerned.
If I’m lucky, Bob will say, “Nice job,” with false sincerity.
And then he’ll never let me near the lawn mower again because he can’t trust me to do it right.
I can only hope