That woman is one piece of work. First, she crashes into me. Next thing I know, she’s yellin’ at me. I can’t believe it. I’ve been around the world and back, but I’ve never met a chick like her. I know it was a short encounter, but there’s something about the way she carries herself that’s different from most people around this town.

Plus, she totally caught me staring at her tits and didn’t say anything, so I’m pretty sure she’s game. Not to mention, her eyes weren’t exactly making contact with mine either. I didn’t get her name, but I’m hoping she calls back. If anything, it’s another paycheck.

After the war, things have been a little crazy for me. You go into combat because you believe that you can make a difference in the world. You want to protect the people you grew up with, and the rest of the country depends on you. Take the present, for instance. Things are out of control. If I was a bit younger, I’d sign up all over again.

Only thing is, when you get out, you’re back in the real world. You’re not with your SEAL brothers anymore. Sure, you have your merits and your pins, and all of the memories. However, all of that good stuff just starts to fade into the past.

I took to drinking, fast, and to hot women. I came back home to Canton as a hero. You think I wasn’t going to celebrate immediately? Hell no. First thing I did was head down to The Office, a bar not too far from downtown. I always loved that place because when people called you up, you could tell them you were stuck at The Office and not be lying.

So I grabbed a few drinks and some pussy, and had the best week of my life. After all, that’s what I live for. Well, that and taking charge of my surroundings. I’m a fighter, plain and simple.

But after a while, you start to realize that people could give two shits about your battle scars. They could care less that you saw your best friend get killed in a ghost town overseas. They don’t want to hear your war stories, about the glory you once had. They want you to get the fuck to work.

“Make something of yourself,” my dad always told me, right before he left us high and dry. “Go out into the world and do something, for Christ’s sake.”

Of course, those words would be best spoken by someone else. I don’t think that man ever had a steady job in his life. So, I guess I’m doing better than he was at my age, and that satisfies me for the time being. I can get over all the war shit. I don’t even bring it up anymore. What’s the point of reminiscing?

I knock on my next job’s door and wait for the old woman to open it. “Who is it?” she calls out, knowing full well we scheduled this appointment.

“It’s me, Mrs. Faraday. It’s Addison,” I call out. “I came to fix that sink.”

“Addison who?” she asks, walking to the door. She always does this. It’s like clockwork.

“Addison Williams, Mrs. Lawdale. Can I come in?” I ask.

“One second! I’m getting ready,” she says. I roll my eyes when the door inches open and I see her scurrying away.

“What the fuck,” I whisper.

“Don’t come in,” she calls out as the door keeps inching open. This woman is about 65 years old and every time I come over, she attempts to seduce me. It’s gotten real old at this point. “I’m still changing.”

“Alright, I’ll wait,” I call out.

“Oh, don’t you come in yet!” she says again. “Really, don’t come in.”

“Ma’am, do you want me to fix that sink or what? I’ve got a tight schedule I need to abide by and—”

She opens the door, wearing lingerie and I immediately cover my eyes. “You’re so pushy!” she exclaims. “There, you happy? I couldn’t get dressed in time because of you. I feel so… violated.”

“Excuse me,” I push my way into the house and find my path to the sink.

“You should start in the bedroom, over here,” she calls out to me. “I think my dresser is broken.”

I sigh and turn toward her bedroom. She’s laying on the bed when I walk in and I struggle not to laugh. It’s not that I don’t like it when women want me, but she’s a little out of my range. No, that girl earlier… that’s closer to my type. Sweet, spicy, and a perfect hour-glass shape. Damn, I hope she calls.

I test each drawer to her dresser and notice they work perfectly fine. “The dresser looks okay,” I say, walking out of the room. I head to the sink again and test it. It’s also working. “Shit,” I sigh. “I’m leaving, ma’am. Everything in this house is in working order. You don’t need my services.”

“But I do need your services!” she calls out. “Addison!”

But I’m already at the door and I’m walking out. “Wait!” she calls out. “Ever since my husband passed, I—”

“Please don’t call me anymore. I’m getting tired of this,” I tell her off and get in my car, blasting my music as loud as possible. I peel out and head home.

It used to be I could pull as much tail as I wanted with this job. There’s always a housewife who wants the thrill of getting with the repairman who’s ex-Navy. One look at my tattoos and they’d answer the door on their knees. Now, however, it seems as if all the younger people have moved away. Ever since the economy crashed, people just changed.

Now the place is empty and I’m stuck with women like Mrs. Lawdale. All I want is for that woman on the bike to call me back. She’s different. She’s an outsider, like me.

I head home and turn on the lights to my empty house. Home sweet home. The phone rings and I jump at the receiver, answering it as quick as I can.

“Yeah?” I answer.

“Bro, it’s me, Halloway,” my buddy says.

I sigh, to his dismay. “Ah, what’s up?”

“Don’t sound so bummed. Jesus, man. We haven’t hung out in weeks. I thought you’d be excited,” he says.

“I thought you were this woman I met earlier,” I laugh. “Sorry, man.”

He laughs loudly. “Scale of one to ten,” he says. “How hot was she?”

“She was beautiful. I don’t know, maybe an 11. Maybe a 12,” I say. “Get this. She crashed into me on her bike. I told her if she needed any repairs, she could always call me.”

“Well, she has to call you now,” he jokes. “Hey, let’s go out to the town dance and find some women to take home.”

“I don’t know man,” I sigh. “Don’t you think you’ve outgrown that ritual?”

“What do you mean? You love showing off your moves,” he laughs. “Come on, we never hang out anymore. You’re too busy for me. We could get some drinks and take some women on the Ferris Wheel.”

“Alright, I’ll go. I’ve got nothing better to do,” I acquiesce.

“Alright, I’ll meet you there. Give me a couple hours,” he says.

“See ya,” I hang up the phone.

I love this small town, but I’m starting to get a little bored of doing the same thing. I guess that woman crashing into me changed me a little today. Maybe it woke me up. Perhaps I was already heading there. Either way, I hope I see her tonight. I know I’ll be keeping an eye out.