Michael, my friend

Author Brigitte Gauthier

Michael is good to me. He has a car and he shares it with me. Any time I need transportation, I ask if it is possible for me to use the car and most of the time it is. I drive his car whenever, wherever I need to go.

The original agreement was that I share the expenses for the insurance, the repairs, the plates. I also pay for the gas that I use. For the last 6 months, being poor, he told me to pay for the gas. I paid for the gas I used. I still drive the car.

Last year I found a great job. After 5 months, however, I lost it because I was not competent enough. Damn! A few months later, I got another great job. 10 days later I was back on the sidewalk. My tail between my legs. Michael comforted me the best way possible by giving me a job by his side and telling me how great an asset I was for a company. I still work with him and we are a terrific team.

A while ago, I needed help to install curtains. He took control of the activity and with his experience, we were able to cover several windows in little time.

About three times per week, he goes to the grocery store. Every time, He asks if I need something. Most of the time I answer milk. He buys me milk. My milkman is a gentleman.

Whenever I need some time off from work to see a doctor, he comes with me and waits for my call to come back and get me. He does it so I can save the parking fees.

When I work relentlessly, he comes behind me and massages my shoulders rubs my back and talks about anything else but work.

At the office, we have a fast computer and a big screen. We also have a tiny and sloooow laptop and a small screen. Guess who has the best computer and the best screen?

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