Just Say No

I’m pretty easy going for the most part, but the mower man at the cemetery just drives me nuts. We kinda got off to a bad start that first time; that time when I stood in shocked disbelief, reading the name inscribed in cold marble and knowing this would be where our visits took place now; not in a cozy, warm den holding cups of coffee, but here, kneeling on wet grass, having a conversation that was not one. But, at least, it was peaceful, that is until the mower man arrived, adding noise to an already untenable situation. Things between he and I have gone downhill every since. The grass there is about a fourth inch tall so that when he mows, it’s just dust that blows out, and he mows the same area at least three times for no apparent reason. I’ve tried different days and different times, but he’s always there. My last visit, he asked me to move my car and I just said, “No.” He stared at me in disbelief for awhile, pushed his mirrored sunglasses up, and stalked off in a huff. I was complaining to my cousin, the writer, about it and found out she has the same problem at the cemetery near her, lol! Here’s what she wrote about it: Kate LaDew