"Hey there, I'm James Taylor, your handyman!" The tall man at the door didn't quite look like the James Taylor Bethany remembered.
"Wait a minute," she thought, "James Taylor died a couple of years ago."
Seeing the puzzled look on her face, Dan the Handyman said, "Sorry. Bad joke. I'm actually Dan the Handyman. You called me to have a look at some things you might need to have done around the house."
"Right," she replied, remembering she had called for someone to check some things out. "Come on in, I'll show what I need to have done, and you can tell me if you are qualified to do them and of course, how much it will set me back."
"Lead the way, please, and I'll take some notes as we go."
Bethany took him to the basement first. "We had some water damage in here a few months ago, and it's all dried out now, but the baseboards need to be replaced and painted." They moved around the corner into the laundry room. "The dryer seems to not work as well as it used to, and I wonder if the vent is really working."
"Mmmhmm," Dan the Handyman mumbled. He was writing some things down on his notepad, but she couldn't really see it.
They headed back up the stairs, and Bethany stopped halfway up and turned around. Dan the Handyman's eyes had clearly been on her ass as they ascended the stairs, and slowly rose to meet hers. He started to blush, then consciously pushed the reaction aside. Her heart beat extra hard a couple of times and settled down. "This, uh, handrail, umm, seems to need tightening," she managed to eek out. "Oh my god," she thought, as she turned again and walked up the stairs.
They were standing in the kitchen and Bethany pointed to the light, a double fluorescent job. "I really dislike this harsh fluorescent light, and I'd like a softer, somewhat more ... timeless light fixture installed in its place, one that fits the character of the house."
"Okay," he said, "will there be anything else you'd like to have done?"
"I really want to paint the whole place, at least the inside. I'm pretty good at painting all the flat surfaces, but I'm pretty bad at the corners and cutting in the edges and tight spots. I can't freehand at all, and taping doesn't seem to work for me. It always seeps under the tape."
"Freehand work is my specialty," he said with a sly smile. "Tight spots and hard things don't bother me at all, and I can negotiate the curves and edges pretty easily."
Bethany wasn't sure at all why she was feeling tingly inside, but every time he spoke it seemed to get worse. She was even having trouble forming thoughts, so distracted was she by something. She shook her head and brought herself back to the present.
"Would you like to get the paint, or shall I do that for you as well? My neighbor manages a paint store, so I know I can get a pretty good deal if you'd like. I even have one of his paint wheels in my truck -- let me just go get that for you."
When the door closed behind Dan the Handyman, Bethany caught her breath. "What the hell?" she wondered, "What is he doing to mesmerize me like that? I had better be careful."
He knocked on the door and pushed it open. "Here is that paint wheel. If you find what you like, I would be happy to get it for you at my cost."
"Great. Thanks. That would help a lot, I guess."
"Oh yea, I get it for about half of retail, so it's a pretty good deal. I should warn you, though. I like to paint topless." He smiled and laughed a bit, and Bethany joined.
"Well, you are welcome to," she replied "but I won't."
They measured the rooms, and figured out how much paint they would need for each room. It seemed pretty straightforward, and Bethany was pleased. "What about me painting the easy parts, you know, the flat stuff, and you just doing the, uh, hard parts?"
"Hmm," he began. "I don't know how I would feel about guaranteeing my work since it would be so entangled with yours. Then again, working side by side with you would certainly have its rewards, so, sure, let's do it. That'd be fine."
"Hmm," she responded. "You know what fine means, right?"
"Fine. Good. Acceptable. Just short of perfect?"
"Nice try, but not even close. Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional."
"Well, then, I guess it would be just short of perfect to work side by side with you painting your place here. I would be working with you, not your husband. Right?"
"He's not too handy -- in any way, so yea, you would be working with me."