Ladder Demonstration

“Here, let me show you.”

 He said.

Before I could shut the door 

Or even had a chance to respond

He flicked the ladder effortlessly

Into a new position.

“Clackity clack!”

“This ladder has 25 different configurations SON...”

He slurred in a slight Appalachian drawl...

“It can meet any of your needs whatsoEVER...”

He said this as he clicked the ladder

Into four more different configurations.

“Click, clack, click, clack...CLACK!”

He did it all with one amazing thin arm

Skilled and with steadfast confidence.

One arm was all he had.

Whether he was born like that 

Or not

I don’t know.

I didn’t ask

As fast as he was

Pitching the device about.

It WAS entertaining to see though.

On a Saturday morning

Slightly hungover

After one cup of coffee

While I’m standing there 

In my pajama bottoms

Wanting to shut the door

Like I do

With any other Jehovah’s Witness.

But there he was

In a conservative dark suit and tie

One empty arm pinned to the side

While the other arm

Demonstrated a ladder

That had 25 different positions.

“It can be a step-stool...a step-ladder...a 3 story-scaffold...a 30’ extension ladder...a   

  footstool for your poodle or terrier to get up into bed with you...” 

He spoke the latter affectedly

Like he was gay and had a poodle.

He said all of this 

While continually breaking down

And reconstructing

This great ladder

In a fury

With a loud 

Reverberating

Aluminum metallic noise.

“Look. It can be a fire escape for your kids...God forbid there was EVER such a fire.”

“Clack, clack, clack!”

“You can bend it over into a sawhorse if you ever wanted to do work around the house.”

“And if you didn’t!”

He continued...

“Clack, clack, clackity, clack!”

“There’s a special attachment here for a fleshlight!”

He held onto the ladder

With his only hand 

And started 

Gyrating his hips 

Into the aluminum horse

Like he was 

Humping a Mexican whore.

“Alright!”

I said.

“That’s enough!  I don’t need your ladder!”

“You need to go.  You’re wasting your time here.”

I told him.

“You’re better off with the preacher up the street.  He’s doing a lot of housework these

  days.” 

“He could probably use a ladder like this.”

“Number 183.”

I closed the door

To protests.