BAGMAN: "It's about time you showed up!! You...you...you!"
BUTLER (suggesting a G-rated word for Bagman): "Slackard?"
"Sorry, guys," I apologize without sincerity, combining it with a rationalization. "First I had to get rid of the box that Bagman had been stored in before the odor permeates the new house. Then I got lost trying to find the studio and kept walking into the laundry room instead.
BUTLER: "What about the box where you kept me during the move?"
"You did a nice job while you were in storage," I admit. "Karen decided to use it to replace the wardrobe that got broken in the move."
BAGMAN (Glaring at Butler): "Suck up!"
"Anyhow, guys, let's get started. The topic for today is black and white photos of our town."
BAGMAN: "I'd rather be in a box."
Bagman leaves, Butler puts moisturizer cream on his hands and is, therefore, useless on the computer, so I continue without them.
My hometown. Hmmph. I guess my real new hometown is a place called Hanahan.
I still think of myself as living in Charleston because it is easier to explain. We actually moved from Mount Pleasant which is a more stuffy, fru-fru kind of suburb to Hanahan which is a more blue collar, down to earth kind of suburb.
There are about 13,000 people in Hanahan and most of them are police officers. If you mention Hanahan to anyone around here, the first thing they say is, "Be careful not to speed." But I never know when I am driving in Hanahan anyway because county lines and town lines in this part of South Carolina intertwine like a bed of snakes. People keep getting together and incorporating little towns to avoid paying County taxes and politicians keep drawing different county lines to make sure they contain people who will vote for them. Average people like me never know where they are because every time I drive around a corner, I find a sign telling me I am in another town.
Revenue (probably more from traffic fines than taxes) has built a fairly nice municipal building which includes everything -- administrator, mayor, police, fire, court -- one stop shopping.
The official town seal consists of a heron under a tree although, so far, I have seen no herons since I left Mount Pleasant. I have seen some trees.
The seal also says "Circa 1973" which means, I assume that the town incorporated sometime around 1973 -- don't they know the actual date?
I try to think of something else to say but Butler pokes his head in the door.
BUTLER: "Bagman's gone into another box!"
"Damn!" I exclaim, realizing that I've been cursing more than usual, lately. "Doesn't he know where the bathrooms are in the new house?!"
We rush off to get him and as we run, I realize that I'm not sure where the bathrooms are either.