construction worker, tool belt,

Breaking news: The one and only apartment complex in town is getting a new roof.

With interest, I noticed this as I stared out my living room window. Two Ford F350 trucks pulled into the parking lot; that is if you could even call it a parking lot. It’s more of a street, one that my house shares with the apartment people.

The apartment people are incredibly entertaining to live next to. There’s the lady who, through rain or shine, follows her walker to the library and just between you and me, I covet that walker. I watch with interest each day as she brings back in its special basket the latest bestseller books.

The walker lady’s neighbor is a plump, sassy gal. She swings her long Buick boat onto our street as if she’s driving an 18 wheeler. I wave to her each day, and she never waves back. Instead, she stares straight ahead through her bug-like Hollywood style sunglasses and acts like she owns the world. In other words, she’s too cool for me.

Then there’s the apartment men. Or boys trying to be men. Mostly, they are boys who no longer are allowed to live with their mothers. They drive small little Ford Rangers from the 80’s and only emerge when they run out of soup or need to do laundry. They’re friendly in their own way, but I’ve never made friends with any of them. It’s not like I’m into World of Warcraft and having Ritz crackers in my hair.

Yes, the apartment people are getting a new roof.

As I pulled out of my drive, I stared through rain spattered windows at the chaos of the brick building across the street.

The old lady had ditched her walker and was serving drinks to the men. Surrounded by muscled men wearing carpenter belts, she was obviously in her glory. I’ve never seen her smile with such enthusiasm.

The plump sassy gal walked by the group of men, her nose in the air and her sunglasses on even though the day was rainy. I’ve never seen a woman walk with so much swagger. She tossed her hair seductively at the men as she revved the motor to her boat before pulling out of port.

One of the boys had momentarily put down his game controller and was watching the scene outside. I wondered with amusement if he was thinking about getting a carpenter belt.

Because I know I was.

As I drove away to my office job, the dull gray clouds hovered a little bit lower. The drizzle began dampening the cheeriness I’d momentarily found. And I realized something.

I wished I lived with those apartment people.

I wished I lived in a junky brick room.

I wished I lived.

Sometimes I get so caught up in being normal, that I forget God made me different. I want to forget who I think I need to be, and instead, be unique… be who God intended me to be.

I might start serving lemonade to muscular men.
I might start wearing big sunglasses.
Doubtful, yes. But… I am going to start living like the apartment people.

And I’m definitely getting a tool belt.

-Duane Scott

the apartment people

by Duane Scott time to read: 3 min