There’s just something about life that makes grumpy old men. They may once have been happy and hopeful and full of optimism but life wears on a person like water crashing on a beach.
It’s a combination of myltiple factors I think. The first is just, you know, that hope being squeezed out by a series of unfortunate events. Let’s just say you trust people to come to the table too, you know and do their job right or to have your back and then they don’t and disappointment sets in.
You might have a wind storm and it might cause damage to your roof and upon submitting a claim to insurance, you might expect the adjuster to do their job and the roofer to do their job. You might pay your insurance premium faithfully every month and then keep all the paperwork together in a file and be organized when that event happens.
That’s your part, you know. These other people, who you are paying, have their part to play too and you trust them to do that. That’s the hope anyway. They say they’ll wotk it out and not to worry, so you don’t. Then when it’s all said and done you should be able to sit back and relax. But that’s not how the story goes.
They work together but they haggle over details. They eventually come to an agreement and money is exchanged. The materials are delivered and the white guys who are on your side disappear. Then the Hispanic folks show up and do their job. By the way, this is the best part of the story.
These guys are friendly and they kick ass and work hard and do their job. They care when you go in and out of your house with kids and signal to stop work for a hot minute to let you pass so shit doesn’t fall on your head. They knock out the tear down and install of a new roof in one day, witches hat and all, without a single gripe. Amazing.
(The witches hat is the part of my roof above the bay window in by bedroom that’s circular and comes to a point at the top and looks like a witches hat. It’s super cool. The only thing cooler would be if my house was all brick. Then it really would look like a castle).
After all the work is done, the “roofer” shows up again. He’s got papers to sign and wants to be paid. The bottom line looks like the estimate so you sign and write a big fucking check. All seems well.
Then you go to put those papers with the rest of the insurance paperwork and scan a copy to sent to insurance so you can get the balance of what’s due. Looking closer at the numbers you notice there’s more on the original claim than just the roof. A few gutters and window wraps that took hail damage. These were clearly not part of what was just done or paid for. So in the eyes of the insurance company, the job is not done. Mmmmmkay. Does that mean the money that’s still owed will be withheld? Not sure.
But how come these guys didn’t get this straight in the beginning with their “haggling”. How come nobody mentioned it when it was clearly in the original adjusters report? Why is it that a person who is paying big money for services has to also learn how to read the fine print and go over every line to make sure they don’t get screwed? Because that’s life.
Now play that out about three hundred more times in various scenarios of different shapes and sizes and there you have it.. Waves crashing on the beach. Time after time having a certain expectation and being disappointed. No wonder people get cynical.
I think the other major factor is that when you’ve worked your whole life as a productive member of society you start to feel like you’ve paid your dues. You’ve been paying into life and begin to feel like you’ve done enough or thT maybe even that you’ve overplayed somehow and life kind of owes you back. Life might ask you for more and you just kind of go “fuck that”, and don’t do it and don’t care.
So the next time you cross paths with some old guy who is grumpy and tells you to get off his lawn or get out of his way, you know. It’s not really his fault, he’s just been beaten down by life.
Now, to be fair and not be too sexist, the same thing happens to us women. Only when we get old, they don’t call us grumpy, they call us bitchy. “Bitchy old broad” (only nobody uses the term broad anymore). We’re just a bitch.
I’m glad I’m immune to all of life’s BS and will never get like that. I’m going to remain hopeful and happy to the very end and will take on every wave life throws at me with a smile. I might rant and give it the finger once and a while, but then I’ll continue to embrace all the wonderful things it has to offer.
Sincerely, the girl with a brand new witches hat,