Dude, did you pass all of ‘em? I bet you did with that head of yours. By: Tim Gentry When I graduated from college, I opened a small pressure washing company – and to my surprise – it took off and did well. Robert was, of course, my first employee because I could talk him into stuff; besides, I needed someone to make me laugh while I shot bleach all over the neighborhood houses. We particularly enjoyed pressure washing for the Yankees on St. Simons Island because they were scared to death when Robert told them that they had that ole’ type B mildew on their homes. I’m not sure there was such a thing, but if you gave Robert a clip board and 30 seconds he was going to make you believe there was. Maybe we were the good side of Karma getting the Yankees back for carpetbagging us after the Civil War – that’s my story so I’ll stick to it. The company took off and since I lived with mama we had no overhead other than a bunch of bleach from Winn Dixie. My eyes typically stayed blood shot which served to make me look drunk when I went out on the weekend; it enabled me to make excuses when I made a fool of myself doing the lamb dance at Brogen’s, the bar. I didn’t know what to do with all of that money I was making and since mama didn’t ask for any bill money, I decided I should make prudent financial decisions since Georgia Southern had somehow found it in their heart to award me a finance degree – don’t ask how. Anyhow, I felt like, and had always been told, that I had to get that college degree or I would never amount to nuthin’. It’s funny, now I do mortgages (and see income) and there are countless people that make a pile of money because they have a good work ethic – not because they have some ole’ piece of paper. I don’t know, I just went with the flow and kept getting dad to pay for each quarter because of the fun I was having and then one day my advisor told me I could graduate – so I did. Having graduated, and with all of that pressure washing money, I decided to make a parental type decision for my little cousin, Robert. Robert would go to community college. I sat him down and told him that he wouldn’t amount to nuthin’ without that piece of paper so he just agreed to do what he was told. He knew I had his best interest at heart; plus, he said he knew all of those college kids were scoring with the ladies so he saw no harm in going back to school. Also, I agreed to pay for his college with some of the profit we made from our smokin’ hot new company. Robert had a bit of a learning disability so mama agreed to read to him each night to help him retain the information. It’s easy to deduce that mama and I loved our Robert. Robert met with his advisor who explained that Robert had to take all remedial classes because he didn’t take the SAT and his high school grades were just a tad under par. Robert was the most humorous in high school – as was I – we both had an image to keep … clowns are funny, not scholars, right? When I heard he would have to take remedial classes – and I had to waste money on credit-less classes – I said, “No way! I’ll take the test for you!” So, it was decided. But I had my condition to take the test with Robert. He was to go find a new job for us in the truck with the Yankees on St. Simons Island while I slaved for 4 hours taking algebra tests, comprehension tests, and writing essays for Robert. And he agreed. The test was set up and scheduled at the college on the following week. I grabbed my cap – gave it a gangster lean – practiced my Robert Drawdy strut – and trekked out to the test. I was going to take all of the tests because that was just good business, right? Who wants to waste money on Robert taking remedial? I walked into the auditorium and there she was! It was proctored by a lady that had taught at Jane Macon middle school 8 year earlier! I didn’t have her but she knew my Aunt Susan (Robert’s mom) and I’m pretty sure she knew Robert. But, I wasn’t paying for remedial – did I mention that? I strutted up, pulled out Robert’s license, and said, “Wassup – I need to take some tests …” I said it just like Robert did and it worked! She said, “Ok, Mr. Drawdy … here’s your tests, take your seat please. So, I just gave her a nod and hit her with, “Word.” Because I had seen so much of the material, I knocked out the test pretty quickly; besides, I needed to get back home and change to so I could go find Robert and get started spraying bleach on Yankee’s houses. And then I saw the truck at mamas. I pulled in and thought to myself: hmm, I guess Robert found us a job and is just waiting on me. I opened the door proud of myself and ready to receive some credit from my cousin for taking one for the team. And he was asleep in the recliner. Hey!! Boy, what are you doing? Huh, huh? What? I’m not sleeping? Yes, you were! Did you find a job for us? Um, um … Did you pass all of ‘em? I bet you did with that head of yours. Robert had a way of distracting me so he could play on my ego. Robert was street smart like that. What? Did I pass ‘em? Well, of course I passed them – all of them. We will get the results in two weeks and you ain’t takin’ no remedial. See Poonk, I knew you could do it … and he gave me that smile. And then I forgot that I was not mad at him. Robert waived me over to the oven and said he had me some Tombstone pizza baking just for me. I knew Robert was lying but everyone wants to believe kind little lies. And I did. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, I would have found the remnants of that pizza not suitable for a rat. Nevertheless, I was hungry and I knew I had college to pay for … So we went to find some Yankees – they needed bleach for that type B mildew – haven’t you ever heard of it? It’s really bad. Footnote: My mom read to Robert every night after she got off work. Robert did fairly well in his first quarter, but there was no time for school – we had a mortgage company to open. It’s interesting to note that Robert never got a piece of college paper but he made more money doing mortgages than ANY of my college graduates and I had close to 40 loan officers come and go. Robert didn’t need school – Robert could sell – just like he sold me on that pizza – just like I sold that lady that I was Robert. RIP Robert Drawdy
Posted on: Fri, 18 Apr 2014 22:24:33 +0000
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