THE OCCASIONAL VISITOR

There’s some as call him “Harold.”

There’s some as call him “de t’ing.”

But around here, we call him “Charlie.”

Charlie. As well as we know him - in the case of She Who Must Be Obeyed, almost forty years! - it’s always Charlie. Charles, maybe. Never Chuck.

He’s a regular visitor, stopping in about every four weeks or so. Used to be, he’d show up like clockwork, but lately he’s a little less reliable.

But the Spoilsport Muthafucka always shows.

I hate his sorry ass, I really do. There was a time when I actually welcomed him, his intermittent presence a reassurance that our lives would not get more complicated than they already were. But there were always strings attached.

After a modest Plumbing Adjustment some twenty years ago, that reassurance was, shall we say, superfluous. Issue was no longer an issue. Which meant that Friend Charles had worn out his welcome. Now he was just...annoying. Not to mention messy. He was always a sloppy bastard.

Oh, well. It’s only a matter of time, and it’ll be just like Clemenza telling Sonny Corleone about Paulie Gatto: “Charlie? Aww, you won’t see him no more.”