Lost Art of Mystery

Task-Bunnies, OfferUps, & Other Random Masked Encounters.

Lately life feels heavy. Things are not “great again” whatever the hell that was supposed to mean, more like “worse than ever”.

Since laughter is good medicine, I thought I would write about a happier time. Hard to believe that the pandemic could ever be referred to as a “happier time.” But for me, in many ways, it was. I suppose it’s a testament to the fact that no matter how bad things get, and they can get pretty bad, there is always a “silver lining”, or at the very least some dark humor to glean from the situation.

First off, I want to say that “the mask”, as controversial and contentious as it was here in the U.S.A., did a lot of us a big favor! My eyes are my best feature & I felt so much more confident covering the rest of my face. Plus, it left more to the imagination when encountering a stranger. Everyone became instantly mysterious. It made things slightly easier for those of us who lean introverted. There was something fun and liberating about being “incognito”.

Part 1. A few ‘light and fluffy’ Tales of Task Bunnies.

If you’re not familiar, Task Bunny is an app for finding handymen, and handywomen. Need something fixed in your place? There’s an app for that. By the appearance, it could almost double as a dating app. Using geolocation, it will pull up local Task Bunnies, featuring a pic, stats, rates and reviews best matching your search. You can hire someone to put together that tedious Ikea furniture, paint a wall, or even clean out your closet. There’s even an option referred to as “mounting”. That is mounting artwork on the wall. The “BestBunnies” are always the “hottest” guys. Prior to using the app, I asked a few friends whether they had heard of it.. I did get feedback from a coworker of mine who hired a Bunny to repot a few plants in his penthouse. Unfortunately, they repotted his prized fiddle leaf tree in organic fertilizer, leaving his place stinking like a cow pasture. Otherwise, a few others had used the app for minor fixes and repairs and I heard no complaints.

This is why, during the depths of the pandemic, while frenetically re-arranging my apartment on repeat, I went on the app looking to find a painter for my run down cabinets. The app suggested someone in a decent price range who was “highly skilled” at painting. Clicked and booked. Later that day, I opened the door to a tall, handsome blonde blue eyed, buff “beach boy”, wearing a bandana face mask. He was dressed neatly in faded jeans and fitted white t-shirt and carried a matching denim canvas tool bag. A dense fog of potent cologne entered before he did, and instantly permeated my apartment with a noxious heavy scent of vetiver, cherries and an extra offensive aftershave odor. I showed him to the cabinets and quickly headed into my office. Through my closed door, I could hear him talking and laughing on his phone, but I had an important Zoom meeting to attend to and I figured he could paint and talk at the same time. After about an hour, I quietly opened the office door and went to peak into the small kitchenette. Only one cabinet door looked like it had been painted. A wet paintbrush on the counter’s edge, slowly dripped paint onto the floor. The young man leaned against my fridge, shirtless, taking selfies, paint spatters strategically sprinkled over his tan toned torso while suggestively eating a banana that he’d taken from my fruit basket. When he saw me, his jaw dropped and he tossed the banana into the sink. Turning shades of crimson, he started to mumble something before grabbing a paper towel to wipe the paint off his chest. He grabbed his t-shirt from where it had been tossed onto my favorite designer silk pillow. I sighed, knowing it would need to be dry cleaned to remove the smell. My entire place reeked of heavy cologne. The single painted cabinet was streaky, and there was a pool of white paint on the tile floor. As he pulled his tight t-shirt on, I told him he could leave early since one of my friends had offered to paint for me (I lied). He told me he was on a two hour minimum so I paid him via the app, handed him the ‘used’ banana, and sent him out the door on his fragrant cloud. Needless to say, I had to air out my place for a few days to get the cologne stench to dissipate! Even the face mask couldn’t save me from the offensive odor. Dry cleaning the pillow wasn’t cheap. Overall, this California bunny cost me.

Another time, during a particularly difficult pandemic lockdown stretch, I needed help moving some heavy furniture and repairing a broken ceiling light fixture. This time, I scrolled until I found the most highly rated Task Bunny for electrical repairs. I was not going to mess around this time! Martin, a handsome young man with black thick hair, deep set green eyes and a kind smile, stared out from the photo. He had a litany of 5 star reviews, albeit mostly from women. I submitted a request for the job and he responded immediately. We chatted about the details and he asked me if I wanted him to pick up the electrical replacements at the hardware store. He gave me his personal number and told me to text him a photo of the fixture so that he could get the correct fittings. He arrived promptly with his leather tool kit and a plastic bag from the hardware store including the receipt for the lightbulb and wires. Tall, with a thick head of black wavy hair and naturally bronze skin, he was drop dead gorgeous. On top of that, the young man was polite and friendly. We were both wearing masks, of course, and I happened to have done my eye makeup that day, so I felt a bit more confident in his presence and lost sense time and space, meaning my age and stage in life. He moved the furniture and went on to repair the light with ease. The job was finished in under an hour. Unlike the previous task bunny, this one was efficient, professional and friendly, and he did not wear cheap cologne. As he leaned on the door jamb, he paused and asked me if there was anything else I needed taken care of as he was still on the hourly rate, while staring into my eyes with a glimmer in his. He laughed at the not to subtle innuendo. I asked him of he could fix a broken hinge on a cabinet and he was able to do that quickly. As he worked, we chatted and I asked him how he liked working as a Task Bunny. He paused, pulled out his phone and showed me his past six months earnings, which was well over 100,000. My jaw dropped, albeit under my mask. He went on to tell me that most of his calls were from his Beverly Hills clientele. I mentioned that he must have wild stories to tell, and he laughed in agreement telling me I wouldn’t believe it if he divulged details. He didn’t. Shortly after he left, I got a text from this young man with a photo of a rooftop pool after sundown. He invited me to go have wine at his penthouse apartment in Hollywood. I politely declined, knowing that I would need to remove my mask to sip on a glass of wine, and that would blow my cover! If only I was 20 years younger. Sigh.

Third time’s the charm as they say. Well, the third and final time I used the Task Bunny service, a large broken window shade needed repairs. I reached out and found the cheapest option, since the job seemed pretty easy. I found Igor and he responded that he would be in the area later that afternoon and would arrive by 4 pm. He said he would message when on the way. At 3:00 I received a message that he was stuck in traffic. LA traffic. Around 3:45, more traffic. 4:00, freeway accident, on route. 4:30, got lost. 5:00, an irritated message, “This place is too far for me! I be there at 6:00.” 6:30 the buzzer rings. I open the door to a very angry bunny, with no tool bag. Before I could say a word, he railed at me that I needed to pay him for his hours of driving and gas money. Belligerent and red faced, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The shade could wait. I just wanted him to go away, so I paid him the amount he was demanding. He knew where I lived, after all! Needless to say, I deleted the app after that incident.

Next up…Tales of Online Sales and More Masked Encounters.