My dad hired this guy to come in and paint our new house. We moved into it about a week ago and it was dingy and beat up, lining of the wall coming up, tiles missing, windows shattered, and we spent all of our time cleaning and fixing up our new place. Once it was all fixed, my dad found a number in the phone book and scheduled a painting day. We needed a break and it was one less job for us to do.
When he arrived I didn’t realize he was going to be that attractive.
“Hello, are you Mr. Larson?” He asked my father, holding out his hand for the appropriate greeting.
“Yes, sir. I’m glad you could make it out. I know this place is in a weird part of town, we had trouble ourselves getting back here through all the trees."
"Oh, no worries,” The painter smiled, “I’m Michael. Painters don’t get that much business anymore, this became a side job after a while and I took up art."
"Well, I’m glad you are still available.” My dad welcomed him inside and showed him around. I trailed behind the both of them, increasingly becoming attracted the painter as he spoke.
“That cool?” My dad asked simply, hinting for him to start.
“Perfect. It’s only about thirty bucks per room, but you guys seem nice so I think ten per room will be good."
"Oh, awesome!” My dad exclaimed, “Thank you!"
"No problem."
"Alright, the paints for each wall are in each room, feel free to be artistic if you want.” My dad patted him on the shoulder.
“Great,” Michael started with the upstairs room.