This is a story about our conservative, retired Japanese neighbor who would blush if he knew he was the focus of this blog. It goes back a few years.
Every time he comes over, we have this joke that I should wear less clothes than more. Today, I got out of the shower and Claus said, “Good timing. Les is coming over.” As a helpful afterthought, he offered, “You can wear my new shoes if you’re feeling shy.”
The story starts in 2016, when we started having washer issues. We knew Les repaired washers and dryers, and we hired Les to fix ours.
It was summer, and the heat was horrid. I have a habit of walking around in a t-shirt, and only putting on the shorts if company is coming. Don’t act like you don’t do the same.
One day, though, Les showed up without me realizing Claus had invited him. I was on the sofa when I heard a greeting and then footsteps coming to the door!
Claus had stepped away to the bathroom. I scrambled for a blanket and hollered to Les that Claus was coming out.
Les stayed outside. Nobody was embarrassed, but that is the birth of the joke that Les’ visits mean I should disrobe. Less for Les!
So here we are today, a few years later. Les is back working on our washer again. I knew he was coming so I went ahead and wore clothes.
I even walked out to greet him. “Hey, guys!” I chirped as I took something out to the garage.
Claus was standing behind Les and was looking at me with a puzzled face, and pointing to his chest, as if to indicate there was something wrong with my shirt. I felt very confused and self-conscious and crept back into the house.
Later, when Les left and Claus came in the house, I asked, “What was wrong with my shirt? Was it weird?”
Claus laughed and corrected, “No, I meant, you had so much clothes on.”
Oh, Les. If you only knew your name is synonymous with nudity in our household.