Outliers Paul 7B
I was on my way back from the Mulch station for the sixth time today and saw a pile left behind by our equestrian helpers. I was cleaning up the piles when I heard someone approaching me from behind. I turned to see Paul heading straight for me. I put my broom on the trike and was dumping the scoop out. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Yelled Paul. The sarcasm just took over. I looked around both left and right then looked at Paul, “You talking to me?” I said with the worst New York accent ever. “This isn’t funny. You can’t hoard all the stuff.” Paul said. “What stuff?” I said, knowing that Paul was talking about all the electrical equipment that I put a moratorium on. “You know damn well what I’m talking about, the wire.” Paul shot back. “You mean the regulated electrical equipment and supplies that takes a qualified person to install.” I said as I lowered my tone from jovial to serious. “Don’t give me that crap, anyone can do that shit.” ...