Just an Easy Going Kind of Guy

People always make a fuss about things. Not me, I'm just an easy going kind of guy.

I’d got into work late today, everyone was in a panic. You see, there was this new director that had taken over the company. He was putting all these new rules in place. Rules like, clocking into the system on time and logging your hours. I’d already failed at that one, obviously. He’d made other unpopular changes too. He limited everyone to one free coffee a day, banned mobile phones at desks, and there was even a rumour that he was timing people’s toilet breaks, then recording them into a spreadsheet. God knows what he was planning to do with that. People were calling him draconian and tyrannical. It was all a bit over the top if you ask me, on both sides.

Everyone spent the day making a fuss about me being late. “Aren’t you worried about your time-sheet?” They had asked. “The boss won’t be happy” they had said. I didn’t mind though, I was just an easy going kind of guy, you know?

That day passed just fine. The boss gave me a few scowls, but they had been worth it for the extra thirty minutes in bed. The next day my fridge broke, the food went off; I went to see my mum in the care home and she made all this fuss about it. “What are you going to eat?” She asked. I had some bread, a toaster and some instant noodles, they’d do me just fine. “That’s not a good diet, it won’t do you any good” She warned. She kept on about it, you’d have thought it was her fridge.

Eventually, Mum had let the subject of the fridge pass. Actually, I had to promise to get a new one, so I guess she hadn’t really let it pass. It was a fake promise, I couldn’t afford to replace the fridge. Mum was very worried about my health, but I wasn’t. It would work out somehow, I was just an easy going kind of guy, you know?

The next week, Bobbie died. She was my cat. She had some good innings, lasted eighteen years. I had loved her dearly. She always kept me company, but not too often. That was the good thing about Bobbie, it was like she knew exactly when I wanted some company and when I didn’t. She never caused any fuss, never bought in mice or birds and never woke me up in the morning. She was just a chilled out cat really. She’d come and sit on you for a while, get a bit of a fuss, then be off to stretch out on the rug and sleep. It was a bit sad that she had died, but like I said, she had some good innings. So, I didn’t really mind, I was just an easy going kind of guy, you know?

A month had passed since Bobbie had gone. Things were getting worse at work. The rumours had moved on from toilet timings to company cut backs. It had started a few weeks ago, with small things, like the cleaning agency we used. The boss got rid of them and contracted a new one. The old cleaner came in five times a week, the new one only came in once. The bins kept overflowing and there was a bit of a smell. The boss said “if people didn’t like it, they could take the bins out themselves”. He also said he needed a word with me that afternoon. He didn’t say it in a good way.

I hadn’t been on time much that week. Actually, I didn’t think I’d been on time for a while. It’s probably safer to say, I don’t remember the last time I was on time. In the afternoon, he told me I was being let go. He wasn’t too nice about it either. He said a lot of things about me not being a team player and not putting in the effort. He said the company was struggling and needed everyone to be pulling their weight. He gave me all the paper work and everything. I didn’t really like the job anyway though. So, I didn’t mind, I was just an easy going kind of guy, you know?

Since I had got let go, I spent a week mainly watching daytime TV and eating instant noodles. A call came through on my mobile. People didn’t often call, they usually texted. I’m not sure why, speaking seemed like a more efficient way to communicate than texting. Anyway, the call was from the care home. Mum wasn’t doing too well. She’d caught the flu a week or so ago, they said it had developed into pneumonia. I headed to the care home, but I didn’t really have any money for the bus and all that. So, I just walked it. Probably needed to burn off some of those noodles anyway. It took about two hours.

When I got to the care home, mum was gone. The nurses sat down and told me the news all delicate like. It wasn’t really a shock. She was seventy-nine, she’d become quite frail the last few years. She always stayed mum though, you know. Always my biggest fan and critic, always worried about me too. Especially lately. I was given all the certificates, to make it all official. You need a bit of paper to prove someone’s dead, you see, otherwise they’re not really dead. She didn’t have a will, didn’t have anything to be in one really. Dad wasn’t around, never had been. It was sad, but it was expected, I suppose. The nurses wanted to talk to me a lot. They wanted me to go to some kind of counseling, a special kind, for grief or something. I wasn’t really bothered about all that though, I was just an easy going kind of guy, you know?

The next month passed in a haze. Some post had come through the door, it had big red letters stamped on it: “EVICTION NOTICE”. I didn’t have any money to pay the rent, no job meant no money, so there wasn’t much to be done. The instant noodles ran out two days ago, and all the TV channels were airing this weird grey fuzziness. Strange. I’d taken to reading some old books. I wasn’t much of a reader, but there wasn’t much else to do. Anyway, these big blokes turned up at my door, it was eviction day apparently. They didn’t let me take any stuff with me. They said “we can only let you leave with what you’re wearing”. They were pretty rude, to be honest.

I wandered the streets for a bit, passed a few homeless people on my way. They looked all scraggly and smelly. Most of them were snoozing on old, damp bits of a cardboard. I suppose it’s softer than concrete. After a while, I found this tall building, it must have been about four or five stories tall. It didn’t look occupied. It had this rusty old ladder on the side of it. I thought it might be nice to see the view from the top, so I climbed up.

I found myself at the edge of the building, looking down at the street. There were a few people milling about, but no one looked up. No one knew I was up there. A gust of wind blew, it felt nice on my face and my clothes flapped around in it. It got stronger and stronger. Now that I thought about it, the floor was getting pretty close. I was going to die. I didn’t scream or anything. I didn’t really mind, I was just an easy going kind of guy, you know?