This has been reprinted from my old blog here:

Out here on the flatlands, when we need something repaired, or need to have work done, we get “a guy” to come out and do it.  Some equipment making a suspicious noise? “You ought to have a guy come out and take a look at that.” Something broken?  “You need to have a guy come out and fix that.” My washing machine wouldn’t go into the spin cycle so, naturally, I called the “washing machine guy” to come out and repair it.  Tomorrow, when the “yard guys” come out to mow the yard, they’re supposed to clear out the big pile of branches by the fence.  My friend was telling me the fan belt on his brand new pickup truck started squealing so he took it back to the Ford dealership and had the “Ford guy” fix it. Your air conditioner not working right?  Better have the “A/C guy” come out and take a look at it.  My mom sings in the church choir with a good “computer guy.”   I’m thinking about calling a “fix-it guy” to see how much he would charge me to come out and put in a couple of new fence posts. The one I was thinking of calling advertises himself as “The Honey-Do Guy” (as in when your wife asks you “Honey, will you do this (minor but time consuming home repair task)?” and you’d rather pay some guy to do it for you so you can watch the ball game, he’s the one you should call.)

The other day, my cable TV was acting up. Naturally,  I called the company’s service number to get a “cable guy” to come out and fix it. They told me a “repair guy” would be there at 4 o’clock that afternoon. At the appointed time, the doorbell plonged.  On my way to the door,  I peeked out the front window and saw the repair truck from the cable company parked in the driveway. When I opened the door, sure enough, there was the “cable guy” resplendent in a teeshirt and bill cap emblazoned with the company logo, blue jeans, and steel-toed work boots, with a “cable guy” leather tool belt loaded with pliers, wire strippers, screw drivers, cable crimpers, a big roll of electrical tape and wire ties,  holding a “cable guy” aluminum clip board thingie with my repair order on it.  Her name was Monica.

Oh, and all her tools had pink plastic handle grips on them so the other “cable guys” wouldn’t borrow them.