The Odd Couple

I have been in the Bay Area for 3 weeks. Since the second day of my arrival, I have been living in a basement level apartment of a family friends' friend's house (Jim's House). This may sound depressing, but in actuality, it's not that bad, and becomes only slightly depressing when I step in dog shit and track it into the house. (twice thus far).

The price is certainly right at my current accommodations, as my monthly rental price is: Walk Jim's dog, change the paper in the barometric pressure reader and change a ceiling light bulb when summonsed to do so. All and all, it is a pretty good gig.

Jim is a great fellow, who has been a Lawyer for 40 years, and is a great activist in the community, heading up the California education board, and the committee in the fight for gun control. Sadly, Jim's wife was inflicted with an early case of Alzheimer's, and is now in a full time care facility, so Jim has the house to himself.

Jim has been a great host, and I think he likes having me around. Partially to have company, but mostly so his dog doesn't shit on the carpet. About once a week, we'll have dinner together, which is nice. He lights the candles, breaks out a bottle of red wine and tells me how good I have it as a 25 year old (he typically forgets how vastly underemployed I am, and that I step is dog crap on a bi-daily basis). He loves talking about the weather (hence the barometric pressure apparatus), particularly the weather up at his fly fishing ranch in the mountains, which is situated on 600 acres of land in the middle of nowhere. He says I can use it in the spring. I don't think he realizes that I am the type of person who will DEFINITELY take him up on his offer.

Also, Jim is an avid tennis player. He has slowed considerably over the years, but can still hit the ball with power and accuracy, when the ball is hit right at him. This was a conundrum I had to consider when we played a set the other day.
I had one of two options:

1) play normally, trying to hit the ball away from the opposing player (in this case, Jim), and thusly, looking like a overly competitive ass-hole 25 year old, who is running a very friendly 65 year old around the court.

or 2) hit it right at him and keep the play going..

I chose the later. The problem though, was that he can really nail the ball when I hit it at him, and he would place the ball from corner to corner making me run around, and he would mix in drop shots to get me into net, and then once I was at net, he would lob the ball to the backcourt and make me scamper back to the ball, where I would normally try to hit the Andre Agassi- between the leg shot, and either a) hit the ball directly into the net, or b) crush my knee cap with my racket.

It was an enjoyable round of tennis, and I came out victorious (6-4), but I definitely felt like the 25 year old ass-hole on a few of my passing shots. We're playing tomorrow apparently. I am obviously carbo-loading tonight..