Doorknobs, floor tiles, spurned job offer

Maiyuu is busy around home. In the last couple of days, he has made a new batch of passionfruit ice-cream, and replaced two door knobs.

He thought he might have to ask the landlord to send her helper to put in the doorknobs, but in the end managed to do it himself.

The doorknob and lock on the front door have been sticky, and were in danger of failing. We now have a new one, in a different style but which looks no less smart. Maiyuu bought it himself.

The doorknob for the door of his bedroom also needed replacing, after he locked himself out a couple of months ago and was forced to remove the old one to get his door open again. The door frame still looks as if someone has been attacking it with a sharp instrument, but he hopes to fix that in time too.

The other day, he also bought some more floor tiles for the sitting room. Laying them has been a job in progress over the last 12 months in which we have lived here, but now is finally coming together.

Almost the whole floor is covered. Next pay day, he might be able to finish the job.

Maiyuu is in great spirits, perhaps because he can see my moods are returning to normal. I am showing more interest in him again.

Today, he tells me he will try making pesto. He has bought his sweet basil leaves, so we’ll see how it goes.
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‘Try to show some support – Ball intends applying for a new job tomorrow,’ said carer R.

I dropped in to his ya dong stand last night, for the first time in days.

Ball was his usual tired and emotional self, shall we say. He didn’t say much, and I couldn’t be bothered talking to him.

R noticed that I had hardly spoken to my young friend. When Ball stepped away, he asked me to show him some support. I pulled a face.

'You must be joking. He won’t apply for any jobs tomorrow in that state, and you know it,’ I said.

After imbibing too much, Ball spends most of the next day asleep.

Earlier in the day, I dropped in to see his mother to ask if any members of her family were planning on working for my company on a piecemeal basis. They had asked me to inquire about the possibility of work on their behalf, which I did. Work was available, but no one has shown any interest in doing it.

‘Ball is thinking about applying for work at the local supermarket again,’ she said. ‘He wants a permanent, full-time job paying about B12,000 a month, and is not really interested anything else,’ she said.

His brother-in law had now found work elsewhere, which of the three who originally expressed an interest left only Ball’s younger brother, Mr B.

‘I will ask Mr B for you,’ said Mum.

I sent her a message last night asking if he was interested. If he is, I will have to contact the man who does the hiring at my company to let him know.

Ball’s mother did not bother replying, so I have now abandoned the matter. I shall not mention it again, as I doubt they were ever serious in the first place.

I also doubt Ball’s prospects of getting work at that supermarket, unless his employer has a short memory. This would be Ball’s third stint working there, after he left two times previously.

Carer R asked why I hadn’t visited him much lately.

‘I have a bad stomach,’ I said, which was true.

‘So you don’t like my ya dong any more,’ he said.

That was true, too. I find it increasingly hard to drink, even when I mix it with water.

The company of the regulars there is also starting to bore me.

I find myself drifting off, no matter who is talking. I have heard the stories before, or would rather listen to something else.

Straight men need encouragement to try new things. Ball responds well to touch, just as well as he does to ya dong. But I’ve been there, done that, and now have lost interest.