Dear Man Who’s Had One Hell Of A Long Day,
My roommate and I have been best friends since college, but lately she’s been getting on my nerves! Although we’ve happily shared an apartment for years, I’m starting to think we need some time apart. How can I break the news that I want to get a new roommate without hurting her feelings?
—At The End Of My Rope In Raleigh
Dear Rope,
Huh…what? Oh, I’m sorry, I was a million miles away. I just… Whew, what a day I’ve had. Cody, go get Daddy his mug from the kitchen. Oh, man. Sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I apologize. It’s just… Look, I’ve had a really long day, okay? I can’t even begin to tell you. I just… I mean, oh boy. What didn’t happen is more like it. Believe me, you don’t even want to know. Seriously. Don’t even ask. Do we have any aspirin? My eyes are going to pop right out of my skull. It’s a throbbing, this intense throbbing, right behind my eyes. Feels like a jackhammer back there. Trust me. The last thing you want to hear about is all the crap I had to put up with today. I don’t even want to go into it. Please. Don’t get me started. Don’t even.
Dear Man Who’s Had One Hell Of A Long Day,
I recently babysat my neighbor’s kids while they were on a weekend getaway. I can understand why my neighbors needed to get away! Those kids were a real handful. Long story short, the little terrors cut down the bushes in my backyard. They said they were “playing lumberjack.” Are my neighbors responsible for the damage, or am I stuck with the landscapers’ bill?
—Delicate Situation In Scarborough
Dear Situation,
Oooh, God. Man. Are my dogs barking. My thigh muscles are even doing that jerky, jumpy thing. Whew. It’s just been one hell of a long day, okay? Ooh, God. Well… Okay. So first off, I had to go pick up the car this morning, right? It was supposed to be done before the weekend, and today is Tuesday. So I get up early and drive down there before work. Kids hadn’t even gotten up for school when I left the house. Six bells in the friggin’ a.m., and I’m down at the garage already. But I needed that Dodge today, because I had to drive all the way down to Plainfield to meet a client. I sure as hell didn’t want to take the damned Toyota, that old thing. I mean, ask yourself: How would that look? So finally, they’ve got the car ready. I go to pay up, and there’s an extra $120 on the bill for a new muffler. I say to the guy, I say, “New muffler? I brought this cocksucker in for…” I’m sorry, honey. You’re right. Sorry, Cody. Daddy has had one doozy of a day. So I said, “I brought this so-and-so in for lousy leaky brake fluid, not a new muffler, for chrissakes. I just bought…” Cody, stop it with the light. I said, “I just bought a new muffler, like, five months ago!” And then he said that their work order must’ve gotten screwed up, and… Cody, stop switching the light on and off like that, please. It hurts Daddy’s eyes. My pounding, aching… Cody, away from the light switch. Please just go. Go play. Daddy’s tired, son.
Dear Man Who’s Had One Hell Of A Long Day,
I recently bought my dream house. I couldn’t be happier with it, except for one small thing: My neighbor insists on intervening in all sorts of decisions. She tries to tell me where I should build my deck, how often to cut my grass, and where to plant my trees. It’s a real case of “trouble in paradise.” I’ve worked hard to build my new home, and I don’t want to let this thorn in my side ruin my enjoyment. What should I do?
—Hassled In Harristown
Dear Hassled,
I don’t know. My brother? I don’t know. I don’t have any opinion. I don’t know. Don’t ask me questions about birthday presents. Do whatever. Get him whatever you want. You make the choice. I don’t care. Look, I know we said we’d talk about it this week, but…please. Oh, God. I can’t even think straight right now, and you’re talking birthday presents. I’ve had a really long day, all right? Sheesh! Look, I work hard, don’t I? Don’t I bust my ass for those mother…those so-and-so’s, every day of the week? Well, so I drive all the way to Plainfield and back—and let me tell you, this Plainfield bastard, I mean, talk about your brick-wall situations. This guy, complete wash. I couldn’t sell him a bucket of water if his dick was on fire. So I get back to work, and what happens? Schermerhorn calls me into his office and tells me they’re making Koepp regional manager. He’s all, “Sorry, we know you’ve been at the company for six years, blah blah blah, but the head office says they want Koepp.” Koepp is some kid wet behind the ears. Doesn’t know a sprocket from his own asshole. Lemme tell you, what that kid doesn’t know you couldn’t fit into Yankee fuckin’ Stadium, that pissant cocksucking goddamn… Samantha, don’t…oh, great. Sammy, don’t cry. Daddy’s sorry. Yes, I know, honey. It’s not the table’s fault. You’re right, you’re right. Look, I said you’re right! Christ! I’ve had a really long day, okay? It’s been a real whopper. That’s all I’m going to say about it. I don’t even want to go into it.
Arnold Cardwell is a syndicated advice columnist whose column, Ask A Man Who’s Had One Hell Of A Long Day, appears in more than 250 newspapers nationwide.
