Backstabby

Tessa called me on Thursday. She wanted to know if Buckaroo or I was available to hold open a commercial building downtown. An auction had been publicized and the viewing time was several hours on Friday. She just wanted someone to babysit the place and pass out fliers. 

When I pressed her that perhaps Polly might be available, she said no, it wasn't the kind of neighborhood where Polly might feel safe. "But you'll be fine," she assured me, though I have no earthly idea what that means. 

Anyway, for an easy $50 Buckaroo sat the place open in the pouring rain yesterday. I'm pleased Tessa thought enough to call him for the job. 

Later, when I asked who let him into the building, Buckaroo said it wasn't Tessa. "It was Backstabby," He replied, referring to the woman who made sure I no longer worked at the brokerage (and the one trying to get rid of Abby right now). I'm trying to be upset that he came up with that reference to this particular agent, but I just can't muster it. Even though I was pleased to leave, I think the name fits perfectly.