In West-side Philly I knew a bloke,
whose pipes and cabinets were broke.
(Though I'd advertised as "24/7,"
'cause fixing stuff puts me in heaven)
this guy would always punch in my number,
'round midnight, wakening me from peaceful slumber.
"What now?" I'd mumble, for this man
was as clumsy as a noodle can.
His fingers would slip and sure enough,
the next day I'd be fixing stuff.
Now here's a story that well describes,
the HUGEST mess he could devise,
(Sometimes I think secretly,
Old Jeffery's got it in for me.
And if it weren't for the money's sake,
I'd kick the can, throw down the rake.)
So… at 2:03 AM in June,
I jumped from bed like a popped balloon!
My phone was ringing non-stop, you see.
And there was a text that read, "HELP ME!"
Buckling my belt as I ran down the hall,
I grabbed my tools, my caulk and all.
(When working, NEVER be unprepared,
for the disasters of which you should beware!)
As I walked through his door- oh dear, oh dear,
the ceiling was dripping, the carpet was smeared
with splotches of black- as if he had tried
a glob of tar to patch the leaky side.
The hole in the roof, apparently
was the cause of his adultery.
His wife had come home and in despair,
He'd hid on the roof, in the freezing air.
But his weight was no match for the flimsy tiles,
so the roof collapsed into a pile.
This pile contained many sharp edges,
that ruined his floor, creating wedges
where families of rats had eaten through
to taste the yummy wood below.
As the vermin passed through the weakened walls,
they chewed on cables, chairs and shawls,
they nibbled the wires in the attic,
shut down the electricity-even the static!
Without the AC ventilation,
fuzzy mold was the creation.
Now each wooden board and plank
was mildewed, rotten and it STANK!
And here I had to fix the mess,
of this adulterous A-*-*!
This is the reason not to cheat-
do you want mice your cables to eat?
And mold to attack your living room,
for everything to break- even the vacuum?
"Jeffery, " I said "this is inSANE.
I will not repair your roof or drain.
I will not rebuild your moldy walls,
or fix the scratches in the halls.
Nor will I glue together that chair,
or the broken vase, or the chandelier.
I'm done, fed up with your crazy mess.
You ruin everything with clumsiness,
and the bad decision on your part,
to cheat on your wife, and break her heart.
So this time find another handyman…
I'm done. I'm packing up my van.
I've had enough with clients like you,
Good bye Jeffery, for now we're through.
Good luck dealing with this disaster."
And with that I drove off, faster and faster.
To my simple, humble, wonderful home,
where everything works, like in ancient Rome.
And as I lay back in my snuggly bed,
ready for sweet dreams to fill my head,
I heard a buzzing and to my dismay,
my cell-phone displayed another emergency.
"Arghhh!" I cried, "This is IT."
"I've had it with fixing everyone's s***!"
And since that day, you may not call.
I'm no longer a handy-man, not at all.
I've switched professions as you may see,
I'm now a writer- it's my specialty.