First off, I just want you to know that I think this blog is against my better judgement but my dear sister Kathy planted a seed and well...here it is.
Right now I feel at odds with several things in my life. My job is my biggest hurdle right now. It has made me yearn for the time when I am alone so I can just think and let my tears fall. The time when nobody can see how others' words and reactions affect me and it is also the time when I pick at myself for taking my emotional stress out on everybody that comes into contact with me.
I have not been myself for a little while now and I don't know how to fix me. If you are reading this and you work with me at all...I am sorry. That's all I can do right now.
So, with that being said...I will let my tears fall as I type and tell you a story that my dear sister loves so much.
Recently, my wonderful husband mismanaged his money. And to make matters worse, he mismanaged it two...yes TWO days after he got paid. Me, being the good wife, told him I would get him some cash to get him through the week.
"I only need $20. I don't have to drive this week so I won't need much."
Cool. I got him some cash and life goes on, right? Uh huh! The very next day, he calls me at work and tells me that the alternator and starter went out of his truck but his uncle was on his way over with a new alternator because he had a warranty on this one he put in just a couple months ago. Awesome.
"How much is the starter?" I asked him, not really wanting to hear the answer because I didn't want to buy the part.
"$51 and it has a lifetime warranty at O'Reilly's"
"Well you're going to have to wait until you get paid because I don't have a lot of extra money this week." And he was fine with that and I should have just left it alone.
Okay maybe I told a little white lie about not having the money but he DID say he didn't need to drive anywhere this week!!! Before the end of the night though, I had called him back and asked him to text me the information for the part and that I would run to Creston in the morning and get it for him.
I know that if I didn't NEED my car for anything and it was disabled, I would really WANT it for something and well, to be honest, I don't want my loving husband driving my car if I can help it. So I went and got the part the next day, feeling like I had been driven over by a fleet of super buses, but with a smile on my face. After all, this man had just gotten me the gun I have wanted for a long time. I kinda felt like l owed him a little bit.
When he got home that day, he put the starter in and life was good. I felt so bad that day that I asked him to order a pizza and I would pay for it. Anything to get out of having to get out of that chair until it was time to get ready for work!!! So he goes to get the pizza, with my debit card in his greedy, dirty hand...and comes back with pizza, chips (not one bag but two!!!), and TWO huge bottles of Mountain Dew. He knows I hate that he drinks so much of that crap anyway but I didn't care. I didn't feel good and I just didn't care. Simple as that.
It was then that he tells me that he took a load of scrap to the junk yard today (or whatever that place is called) and didn't have much. Only made $33. Again, I didn't care.
At this point anyway. (Sorry, I will stop dragging this out so much)
Two nights later, hubby says to me "I am going to order some shrimp from Casey's. You want anything?"
"I will take some chicken strips." I still wasn't feeling well so again, I had no plans to get out of the chair until I was forced.
The order is placed and I hear him counting his money. Knowing he should have most of his $33 burning a hole in his pocket, I said "You can take my debit card if you want." I guess what I should have stated was "You can take my debit card and pay for my chicken strips with that." Lesson learned.
He comes back with two orders of shrimp, chicken strips, a bag of Doritos, and two large Mountain Dews. And he says to me...which doesn't even register until the next day..."I didn't put the pop on your debit card." Imagine the look of shock and stupidity on my face when I realized what he had said. It was like the light cleared the fog!!! Well thanks for not putting the pop on my card, you jackass! I'm so happy pay for a meal that you asked me to join in on! Ugh!!!
And here is where it gets good.
"Hey babe. Since you have been so good at spending my money this week, I am going to need you to bring me dinner tomorrow night at work since you get paid tomorrow." Of course he thought this was great. Any chance he gets to eat Mexican food, he is thrilled.
"Oh, and when you bring my dinner, I will also need you to bring me some pads." Imagine crayons falling out of the bottom of the box. That is exactly what his face looked like. Like someone opened up the bottom and the color just fell out.
"Are you serious?" It was almost like he was planking while standing up. Rigid and straight as an arrow.
"Yes I'm serious and here's where you need to take notes because I don't want period pads. I want bladder control pads. I don't have a period, remember. What I do have is bronchitis and anytime I cough, I pee. It's not something I'm proud of. It's just a fact of life. And I will be going on a girls trip soon and those bitches make me laugh. I can't go around with pissy pants."
"So you want Always pads." He just puts it out there like he's an expert on this subject. And then there's me who doesn't even realize that Always makes a bladder control pad.
"NO! Not Always. I want bladder control panty liners. You are going to have to go to the store and stand there and READ the packages. Anything more than a panty liner feels like a literal mattress between my legs and it's not like I go around and intentionally piss my pants!!" I really wanted this to hurt a little bit and the more I talked, the more it seemed to really punch him in the gut.
This was working out just like I wanted it to. I even explained the whole concept behind "minimum and maximum absorbency," like a good wife. That look of horror on his face was awesome.
So...the next evening, Quintin shows up to my work with food and "extra bags" in hand. He sets the two bags on my desk and goes to sit down with the food. I notice that the bags are huge and wonder what he has done. After we eat dinner and talk, he tells me to check and see if he brought me the right stuff.
I pull one package out of the bag and it's HUGE. I could tell immediately that he got mattress pads. Ugh! "28 maximum absorbency ALWAYS bladder control pads." Yes, I realize he got the right KIND but he got the wrong everything else, so don't you dare side with him!!!
"Quintin what the hell???" He just starts laughing and says "What?"
"I can not wear a mattress pad in my pants! I. Can. Not!"
"Sorry! I wasn't sure. Well look at it this way, you can tinkle even more times with these."
"That isn't funny and you know it."
"Okay, so what's the difference between those and what's in the other bag because even though they are the same brand, they are different apparently. I didn't know so I got them both."
I should have just stopped while I was ahead. Why did I even look?
"19 maximum absorbency bladder protection ALWAYS UNDERWEAR! UNDERWEAR QUINTIN??!!?? ARE YOU SHITTING ME???" I did not even know they made these things!
He laughed. And he laughed. And he couldn't stop laughing. And then I got to laughing, turned to him and said "You have to return these."
*S-I-L-E-N-C-E*
"The hell I am."
I pulled the receipt out of the bag and just then noticed that he had went to ShopKo. The one store I won't shop at unless it's a dying necessity. And then I see that he has paid $26 for two bags of mattress pads and pissy pants.
"Dude, you paid $26 for these??? Are you delirious??? You are taking these back!"
"NO. I am not taking them back."
"Fine. I am taking them back and keeping the money."
And I did. I walked right into ShopKo Greenfield and said to the poor young boy working the register, "I am about to embarrass you just a little bit," to which I get the reply "Oh great."
I drop them on the counter and say "I sent my husband in with specific instructions on what to get and he got exactly the opposite of what I said. Not only does not have a clue about women in general, he knows nothing about his wife." I thought this poor kid was going to die laughing. He wasn't embarrassed at all and ends up the transaction with "Hey, you gotta give him credit for even trying at all."
As I walk away, I glared at him with my meanest look I could muster without laughing and said "No. I do not give him credit for anything that directly affects what we just went through. This man has known me for far too long to mess this up!"
Then I proceeded to go to Dollar General and spend $2.65 on 64 of those beautiful little panty liners and pocketed the rest of that money! Ha!
Suffice it to say, my husband thinks he won this little battle. He hasn't, of course. Oh the game is on and it is just beginning!!!
Until next time, thanks for reading. I know I worked out a few tears. Both from laughter and sadness! Hope you enjoyed Kathy's new favorite story!!!
2015/03/15
I had a dream
Have you ever had a dream that you are scared to think too much about? Like one of those dreams that you feel like you shouldn't even talk about? All the while knowing that this dream meant bad, bad things? Yet you can't explain it? You haven't? Me either!! Ha, I wish. I have debated whether or not to even type this up because for starters, it probably isn't going to make any sense to anyone but me. but here I am because I can't get it out of my head. It's like one of those songs that you can't get out of your head.
Even though I sit here with it all ready to come out in print, I will not "publish" until all my guys are safely back to their homes. As much as I know "visually" that this dream showed immediate family, the guys I work with are just like brothers to me. Hell, I'm closer to them than my own flesh and blood brothers.
So there I was. In dreamland. Or in some kind of catatonic state, I'm not sure which right now. You see, I have been fighting respiratory and sinus issues all week. This crap started out with that tight chest feeling that makes you want to cough until you piss yourself and it worked it's way to my head; giving me nothing but long-lasting sinus headaches that make me want to cut my forehead open and pull whatever that creature is, out of there.
Needless to say, in order to get some good, deep sleep I turned to my best friend Mr. NyQuil. I don't normally like to take any sort of medicine but I know it's getting pretty bad when I'm popping sinus meds to get through my shift and dropping into bed immediately after work holding a bottle of NyQuil. It's not that I have trouble sleeping. The NyQuil is just that promise that no matter how much my little Budha wants to wake me up to play, it won't work. It also promises that no matter how many times my phone vibrates, it will not bother me. I will not be waking up until my body and my mind are ready to wake up.
Today I was so ready to wake up. This dream. Oh, man it was so haunting!! Quintin and I pulled up to this fantastically old and dilapidated house. The roof needed fixed. The front porch was about to fall off; old ripped and torn screens across the front and the sides didn't even have any screens. The siding on this home was dated, to say the least and it looked like nobody cared about this house. I was one of those people.
In my dream, I was standing in front of this house wondering what we were doing here. Quintin was standing by the drivers side of the car with a big smile on his face. I start asking him if this is one of those jobs he took on; to work on the house for someone. I told him he didn't have enough time in the world to work on this house and he just beams at me and says "It's ours." Oh boy.
Suddenly my dream has fast-forwarded a little while or else I can't remember what went on next but I said to Quintin "You know, we have lived here all these weeks and I have ONLY seen the bedroom and the living room." This makes me wonder just exactly where we have been eating and peeing all this time. Or was I being held here against my will?We will never know. Quintin proceeds to tell me that I should go look around because he thinks I am going to be pleasantly surprised.
As I go into all the rooms of this home, I realize that it is magnificent. White in most places, spotless, and bright! I notice that there are a lot of built-in cupboards in the walls. And as I open them, I realize that they are meant to be open, not closed. One by one I open these doors to the most wonderful pictures of me and my family when we were children. Donnie, Lonnie, Cindy, Kathy, Kenny, Marla and myself are in every one of them. The strange thing about these pictures are that I have no recollection of when or where they were taken.
Even now, almost 12 hours later, I can see those pictures so clearly. I can almost tell you what we were wearing in them, it was that vivid for me. I remember being amazed at how each set of pictures went along with the next set. Almost as if it were telling a story. A picture book is the best I can describe it. And then I noticed that the more cupboards I opened, and the more pictures I exposed, the darker the house got.
It wasn't bright anymore. It had a scary presence. And I got scared. I asked Quintin where he got these pictures at and he said they all were here when he purchased the home. Everything that was in the home, was there when he bought it. I tried shutting the cupboards but they wouldn't budge. It seemed that once I opened them, there was no going back.
And that's when I willed myself to wake up. I kept telling myself that this was nothing but a dream and that I needed to wake up. I needed to see daylight. The feeling that had consumed me when I woke up was awful. I was scared. I was sad. I was lost. I felt like I needed to warn someone. But warn them of what??
I have only had one other time where I "dreamed" about being somewhere else and seeing bright, vivid pictures, never before seen, of someone I love. That experience left me happy in my heart and very content. This dream did not leave me that way. Quite the opposite.
My first husband was so good about dreams. He knew what to expect from life by what he dreamed. That was the Mayan way, he would tell me. I wonder if the Mayans drank as much as he did? Ha, that's a whole other story right there!
So here I am, half a day later, still trying to shake this dream, this feeling, and this memory. I don't even want to remember those pictures but can't seem to get away from them. I'm not saying that this dream, or whatever it was, means impending doom but I am glad my people are all home and in bed. At least I hope they are. It's out there now anyway, huh?
For the rest of the day, I think I will just find something productive to do besides sleep. It's safer that way -_- Until next time, I hope your day is perfect and I hope you know that you are loved. Thank you for reading!
Even though I sit here with it all ready to come out in print, I will not "publish" until all my guys are safely back to their homes. As much as I know "visually" that this dream showed immediate family, the guys I work with are just like brothers to me. Hell, I'm closer to them than my own flesh and blood brothers.
So there I was. In dreamland. Or in some kind of catatonic state, I'm not sure which right now. You see, I have been fighting respiratory and sinus issues all week. This crap started out with that tight chest feeling that makes you want to cough until you piss yourself and it worked it's way to my head; giving me nothing but long-lasting sinus headaches that make me want to cut my forehead open and pull whatever that creature is, out of there.
Needless to say, in order to get some good, deep sleep I turned to my best friend Mr. NyQuil. I don't normally like to take any sort of medicine but I know it's getting pretty bad when I'm popping sinus meds to get through my shift and dropping into bed immediately after work holding a bottle of NyQuil. It's not that I have trouble sleeping. The NyQuil is just that promise that no matter how much my little Budha wants to wake me up to play, it won't work. It also promises that no matter how many times my phone vibrates, it will not bother me. I will not be waking up until my body and my mind are ready to wake up.
Today I was so ready to wake up. This dream. Oh, man it was so haunting!! Quintin and I pulled up to this fantastically old and dilapidated house. The roof needed fixed. The front porch was about to fall off; old ripped and torn screens across the front and the sides didn't even have any screens. The siding on this home was dated, to say the least and it looked like nobody cared about this house. I was one of those people.
In my dream, I was standing in front of this house wondering what we were doing here. Quintin was standing by the drivers side of the car with a big smile on his face. I start asking him if this is one of those jobs he took on; to work on the house for someone. I told him he didn't have enough time in the world to work on this house and he just beams at me and says "It's ours." Oh boy.
Suddenly my dream has fast-forwarded a little while or else I can't remember what went on next but I said to Quintin "You know, we have lived here all these weeks and I have ONLY seen the bedroom and the living room." This makes me wonder just exactly where we have been eating and peeing all this time. Or was I being held here against my will?We will never know. Quintin proceeds to tell me that I should go look around because he thinks I am going to be pleasantly surprised.
As I go into all the rooms of this home, I realize that it is magnificent. White in most places, spotless, and bright! I notice that there are a lot of built-in cupboards in the walls. And as I open them, I realize that they are meant to be open, not closed. One by one I open these doors to the most wonderful pictures of me and my family when we were children. Donnie, Lonnie, Cindy, Kathy, Kenny, Marla and myself are in every one of them. The strange thing about these pictures are that I have no recollection of when or where they were taken.
Even now, almost 12 hours later, I can see those pictures so clearly. I can almost tell you what we were wearing in them, it was that vivid for me. I remember being amazed at how each set of pictures went along with the next set. Almost as if it were telling a story. A picture book is the best I can describe it. And then I noticed that the more cupboards I opened, and the more pictures I exposed, the darker the house got.
It wasn't bright anymore. It had a scary presence. And I got scared. I asked Quintin where he got these pictures at and he said they all were here when he purchased the home. Everything that was in the home, was there when he bought it. I tried shutting the cupboards but they wouldn't budge. It seemed that once I opened them, there was no going back.
And that's when I willed myself to wake up. I kept telling myself that this was nothing but a dream and that I needed to wake up. I needed to see daylight. The feeling that had consumed me when I woke up was awful. I was scared. I was sad. I was lost. I felt like I needed to warn someone. But warn them of what??
I have only had one other time where I "dreamed" about being somewhere else and seeing bright, vivid pictures, never before seen, of someone I love. That experience left me happy in my heart and very content. This dream did not leave me that way. Quite the opposite.
My first husband was so good about dreams. He knew what to expect from life by what he dreamed. That was the Mayan way, he would tell me. I wonder if the Mayans drank as much as he did? Ha, that's a whole other story right there!
So here I am, half a day later, still trying to shake this dream, this feeling, and this memory. I don't even want to remember those pictures but can't seem to get away from them. I'm not saying that this dream, or whatever it was, means impending doom but I am glad my people are all home and in bed. At least I hope they are. It's out there now anyway, huh?
For the rest of the day, I think I will just find something productive to do besides sleep. It's safer that way -_- Until next time, I hope your day is perfect and I hope you know that you are loved. Thank you for reading!
2015/03/09
Sometimes being nice smacks you in the face
Sometimes the best of intentions aren't always the best of intentions. The best laid plans...well, not always so. Don't you just hate it when you go to do the right thing and it all seems to fall apart in front of your eyes? Today I was reading some things on Facebook and I said outloud, to nobody in particular, "How many awful things can happen to one person in one day?"
Touche! Lesson learned. Keep your thoughts to yourself Shellie and above all that...keep your big mouth shut!
A former boss of mine lost his father over the weekend. So today, I call up my "partner in crime" Beth, and we decide that we need to do something for the old boss. We plan to meet up in Greenfield and go to the grocery store together, get some food and special goodies, and head down to his house.
Before I go any further, let me just say that this man isn't like most people. Although he is lovable and funny and considerate of others and the best story teller on earth, he goes out of his way to be hard and mean and unfriendly. All the while being friendly, if that makes any sense at all! This man has said from day 1, "Don't try to be my friend." And from that moment on, I loved him like a family member. I mean, you can see the connection I had with him, right? Especially the mean part!! Okay, back to my story.
The plan was going well so far. We had the groceries and were heading to Orient. The closer we got to town, the more anxious I became. And so did Beth. Neither of us had ever stopped at his home before. He was pretty adamant that he didn't want his co-workers there so former co-workers probably wasn't on his list of house guests either.
"What if there are a bunch of people there and he tells us to leave?" Or worse...
"What if there are a bunch of people there and he tells us to stay?" Oh dear...
"What if nobody is home?"
"We have food. Someone has to be there."
Our stomachs in knots, we pull up to the house and it looks like nobody is around. We knew they had a couple of dogs and didn't know what kind of reception we would get if they were holding down the fort. I get nominated to go to the door. Something strangely wrong about this democracy. Ring the doorbell. Nothing. I didn't even hear the doorbell so I don't know if it even worked. Open the screen door and knock loudly. Seven times. I don't know why I remember that but I do. Nobody. A man pulls up to the house and we tell him nobody is here. He promptly leaves.
"What are we going to do with this food?"
"Leave it on the porch?"
"We can't do that! Some animal will come eat it!!!"
"Okay go check and see if the door is unlocked."
Yes...I just got thrown under the bus...in front of the firing squad...however you want to say it. I will be the first person shot and killed. You would think that thought alone would be enough to make me not do it but NOOOOOO! Right to the door I went and it was unlocked!
I. Was. Shocked.
So, I open the door and yell for the old man and get nothing. Beth is behind me yelling too. We want him to know it is us entering so he doesn't kill us. Oh hell, who am I kidding!!! I was taking a pretty good chance with my life just by entering without permission no matter WHO I was. I see the old dog laying in the other room, to old to come greet us even though we called him by name. I take my bags of groceries and set them on the table and Beth literally steps inside the door enough for the screen to shut behind her. She isn't about to step any further. For obvious reasons, ya know! Okay, groceries on the table and cards laid on top. Let's get the hell out of here!
As we exit the home, we see this little chihuahua looking dog walking away from the house, looking at us like "What are you doing there and who are you?" Our first reaction was, "OH MY GOD. DID WE LET A DOG OUT???" We walk toward the dog only to spook it and it takes off on us. So we jump in the car and follow it, freaking out the whole time, knowing we are going to die for this one. It stays on the block but it knows we are wanting to get it so it keeps out of reach.
We cruise the town for a while, giving it time to go back "home." If home is where we thought it was. We came back around about 10 minutes later to find the dog in the yard at the next door neighbors house so we pull in and I get out. The dog takes off. I knock on the neighbors door to ask him if he knows if this is the dog in question. We take off down the back yard and he says he doesn't think it is but he isn't sure. His wife isn't home but the dog will come to her at any time. He told me he would have her check when she got back.
I called our boss because I knew that he knew what the dog looked like. I told him what had happened, because at this point I thought WE had let the dog out, and his response was "YOU WENT INTO HIS HOUSE??? YOU DON'T EVER JUST GO INTO HIS HOUSE!!" Well bossman, it's a little late for that info, don't you think??? He describes the dog and I'm pretty sure I went pale. I hang up and I call my cousin, who lives down the street. She describes the same stupid dog we are seeing! Ugh, seriously!!??!!
Is this really happening? All we wanted to do was take some damn food to these people!!!
We drive some more and start tearing the scenario apart.
#1: We couldn't have let the dog out because I checked as I walked in and there was no dog in sight, except for the one in the other room. And when Beth came in with me, she shut the door behind her. She would have noticed a dog by her feet. Heck, with her grace, she would have tripped on it!
There was a note on the table about the Methodist Church women bringing food. We are throwing them under this bus. If anybody let the dog out, it was them. Not us. We are going to hell, I tell ya.
#2: The neighbor had told us what the dog's name was and when we called it, it looked at us like we were nuts. Don't go there. I had already considered that we were!
#3: They take that dog everywhere with them.
I finally jump out of my thoughts enough to see that we are headed south.
"If we keep going, we are going to end up in Creston."
"So what. We are panicking now and we need to figure something out. We have nothing else to do but think this thing out so we can drive."
I am anxious and my stomach is in knots. Beth is anxious and she wants to throw up.
"We are almost to Creston." And it is amazing how fast we got there because as panicked as were were, she only drove 49 mph! Yep, you read that right. We were getting passed left and right. It was something straight out of a twilight movie!
"Good. We are driving by every funeral home in town until we find him. And then we are driving by to see if that damn dog is in the truck."
Guess what? His truck wasn't at any of them. We checked every restaurant that I had ever heard him talk about, with no luck. Isn't it funny that when you are looking for a certain color and type of vehicle, that's all you see??? Now that I think about it, we did not go through the Walmart parking lot! Seriously, why didn't we do that???
Time to stress eat. Get me to a Taco Johns and fast! I need some comfort food. A tasty "last meal" if you will. As we get our order and pull away, a light comes on in my head.
"DUH!!! His dad's house! Go to his dad's house! I know that is where they would be!!" I turn to uncle Google to find his address and when I spoke his name into my phone, I got everything from where to find turtles to where to take diving lessons. Don't ask. I don't even know. Took me a minute or two because it's hard to type into your gps when you're stuffing your face with comfort food all the while wondering who is going to show up at YOUR funeral when you get killed for all of this.
Found the house and no! No old man there either. A couple of other vehicles which I assume are his dad's and maybe his sisters but not his. At this point, I only care about his vehicle. Now why didn't we just stop and ask his sister to call him and ask?? Why, at 11:30 at night did I just think of that?? I'll tell you why. Because I was stressed to the hilt at this point!!
"Let's just head back and see if they are home yet. It's 8pm and this man doesn't have a life. He has to be home now." Northbound we go.
#4: "I just remembered something key! That dog we were chasing around is a male. I saw him piss on a mailbox post. It was most definitely a male. Not sure why that didn't register with me before."
HUGE sigh of relief! I know why it didn't register before. It was because we were scared for our lives. Okay, we did not lose old man's dog. And then Beth says the one thing I did not need to hear. "What if that dog was his dad's dog? We all know his dad had a dog and don't you think he would bring it home with him?" I'm not sure I've ever wanted to hurt someone so badly in my life as I wanted to hurt her then. How dare she put that thought in my head? The old man loves dogs more than people on ANY given day. Oh. My. God. What have we done?
I would be lying if I said that we didn't do a lot of praying while riding around in that car tonight. With the thought of impending doom closing in on us at every turn, I wasn't even sure praying was going to help us.
We get back to Orient and don't see one sign of the dog. And the old man isn't home yet either. Oh my god!! And of course, by this time, I either need to puke or poop. Not sure which but I am so sick to my stomach that I know something needs to happen.
"Look, we both know this man well enough that he would not leave his dad's dog in his house, knowing people would be coming by with food and stuff, taking a chance that the dog would escape. We just know better. The dog has to be at his dad's and I'm sure his sister is staying there." Yep, that has to be it.
"AND, we both knows dogs well enough that as skiddish as it was outside, it wouldn't have come "at us" to get out the door as we went in. It was clearly terrified of us." So we went home. We do not have a phone number for the man. I am not sure what I am going to do. I may have to make a trip in the morning to find out for myself. There could be a trip to jail and a restraining order in my near future. My boss is going to love this. If you love me, you will have bond money ready.
Wish me luck...however I decide to proceed. And thanks for reading. It could very well be my last post! HA!!!
Touche! Lesson learned. Keep your thoughts to yourself Shellie and above all that...keep your big mouth shut!
A former boss of mine lost his father over the weekend. So today, I call up my "partner in crime" Beth, and we decide that we need to do something for the old boss. We plan to meet up in Greenfield and go to the grocery store together, get some food and special goodies, and head down to his house.
Before I go any further, let me just say that this man isn't like most people. Although he is lovable and funny and considerate of others and the best story teller on earth, he goes out of his way to be hard and mean and unfriendly. All the while being friendly, if that makes any sense at all! This man has said from day 1, "Don't try to be my friend." And from that moment on, I loved him like a family member. I mean, you can see the connection I had with him, right? Especially the mean part!! Okay, back to my story.
The plan was going well so far. We had the groceries and were heading to Orient. The closer we got to town, the more anxious I became. And so did Beth. Neither of us had ever stopped at his home before. He was pretty adamant that he didn't want his co-workers there so former co-workers probably wasn't on his list of house guests either.
"What if there are a bunch of people there and he tells us to leave?" Or worse...
"What if there are a bunch of people there and he tells us to stay?" Oh dear...
"What if nobody is home?"
"We have food. Someone has to be there."
Our stomachs in knots, we pull up to the house and it looks like nobody is around. We knew they had a couple of dogs and didn't know what kind of reception we would get if they were holding down the fort. I get nominated to go to the door. Something strangely wrong about this democracy. Ring the doorbell. Nothing. I didn't even hear the doorbell so I don't know if it even worked. Open the screen door and knock loudly. Seven times. I don't know why I remember that but I do. Nobody. A man pulls up to the house and we tell him nobody is here. He promptly leaves.
"What are we going to do with this food?"
"Leave it on the porch?"
"We can't do that! Some animal will come eat it!!!"
"Okay go check and see if the door is unlocked."
Yes...I just got thrown under the bus...in front of the firing squad...however you want to say it. I will be the first person shot and killed. You would think that thought alone would be enough to make me not do it but NOOOOOO! Right to the door I went and it was unlocked!
I. Was. Shocked.
So, I open the door and yell for the old man and get nothing. Beth is behind me yelling too. We want him to know it is us entering so he doesn't kill us. Oh hell, who am I kidding!!! I was taking a pretty good chance with my life just by entering without permission no matter WHO I was. I see the old dog laying in the other room, to old to come greet us even though we called him by name. I take my bags of groceries and set them on the table and Beth literally steps inside the door enough for the screen to shut behind her. She isn't about to step any further. For obvious reasons, ya know! Okay, groceries on the table and cards laid on top. Let's get the hell out of here!
As we exit the home, we see this little chihuahua looking dog walking away from the house, looking at us like "What are you doing there and who are you?" Our first reaction was, "OH MY GOD. DID WE LET A DOG OUT???" We walk toward the dog only to spook it and it takes off on us. So we jump in the car and follow it, freaking out the whole time, knowing we are going to die for this one. It stays on the block but it knows we are wanting to get it so it keeps out of reach.
We cruise the town for a while, giving it time to go back "home." If home is where we thought it was. We came back around about 10 minutes later to find the dog in the yard at the next door neighbors house so we pull in and I get out. The dog takes off. I knock on the neighbors door to ask him if he knows if this is the dog in question. We take off down the back yard and he says he doesn't think it is but he isn't sure. His wife isn't home but the dog will come to her at any time. He told me he would have her check when she got back.
I called our boss because I knew that he knew what the dog looked like. I told him what had happened, because at this point I thought WE had let the dog out, and his response was "YOU WENT INTO HIS HOUSE??? YOU DON'T EVER JUST GO INTO HIS HOUSE!!" Well bossman, it's a little late for that info, don't you think??? He describes the dog and I'm pretty sure I went pale. I hang up and I call my cousin, who lives down the street. She describes the same stupid dog we are seeing! Ugh, seriously!!??!!
Is this really happening? All we wanted to do was take some damn food to these people!!!
We drive some more and start tearing the scenario apart.
#1: We couldn't have let the dog out because I checked as I walked in and there was no dog in sight, except for the one in the other room. And when Beth came in with me, she shut the door behind her. She would have noticed a dog by her feet. Heck, with her grace, she would have tripped on it!
There was a note on the table about the Methodist Church women bringing food. We are throwing them under this bus. If anybody let the dog out, it was them. Not us. We are going to hell, I tell ya.
#2: The neighbor had told us what the dog's name was and when we called it, it looked at us like we were nuts. Don't go there. I had already considered that we were!
#3: They take that dog everywhere with them.
I finally jump out of my thoughts enough to see that we are headed south.
"If we keep going, we are going to end up in Creston."
"So what. We are panicking now and we need to figure something out. We have nothing else to do but think this thing out so we can drive."
I am anxious and my stomach is in knots. Beth is anxious and she wants to throw up.
"We are almost to Creston." And it is amazing how fast we got there because as panicked as were were, she only drove 49 mph! Yep, you read that right. We were getting passed left and right. It was something straight out of a twilight movie!
"Good. We are driving by every funeral home in town until we find him. And then we are driving by to see if that damn dog is in the truck."
Guess what? His truck wasn't at any of them. We checked every restaurant that I had ever heard him talk about, with no luck. Isn't it funny that when you are looking for a certain color and type of vehicle, that's all you see??? Now that I think about it, we did not go through the Walmart parking lot! Seriously, why didn't we do that???
Time to stress eat. Get me to a Taco Johns and fast! I need some comfort food. A tasty "last meal" if you will. As we get our order and pull away, a light comes on in my head.
"DUH!!! His dad's house! Go to his dad's house! I know that is where they would be!!" I turn to uncle Google to find his address and when I spoke his name into my phone, I got everything from where to find turtles to where to take diving lessons. Don't ask. I don't even know. Took me a minute or two because it's hard to type into your gps when you're stuffing your face with comfort food all the while wondering who is going to show up at YOUR funeral when you get killed for all of this.
Found the house and no! No old man there either. A couple of other vehicles which I assume are his dad's and maybe his sisters but not his. At this point, I only care about his vehicle. Now why didn't we just stop and ask his sister to call him and ask?? Why, at 11:30 at night did I just think of that?? I'll tell you why. Because I was stressed to the hilt at this point!!
"Let's just head back and see if they are home yet. It's 8pm and this man doesn't have a life. He has to be home now." Northbound we go.
#4: "I just remembered something key! That dog we were chasing around is a male. I saw him piss on a mailbox post. It was most definitely a male. Not sure why that didn't register with me before."
HUGE sigh of relief! I know why it didn't register before. It was because we were scared for our lives. Okay, we did not lose old man's dog. And then Beth says the one thing I did not need to hear. "What if that dog was his dad's dog? We all know his dad had a dog and don't you think he would bring it home with him?" I'm not sure I've ever wanted to hurt someone so badly in my life as I wanted to hurt her then. How dare she put that thought in my head? The old man loves dogs more than people on ANY given day. Oh. My. God. What have we done?
I would be lying if I said that we didn't do a lot of praying while riding around in that car tonight. With the thought of impending doom closing in on us at every turn, I wasn't even sure praying was going to help us.
We get back to Orient and don't see one sign of the dog. And the old man isn't home yet either. Oh my god!! And of course, by this time, I either need to puke or poop. Not sure which but I am so sick to my stomach that I know something needs to happen.
"Look, we both know this man well enough that he would not leave his dad's dog in his house, knowing people would be coming by with food and stuff, taking a chance that the dog would escape. We just know better. The dog has to be at his dad's and I'm sure his sister is staying there." Yep, that has to be it.
"AND, we both knows dogs well enough that as skiddish as it was outside, it wouldn't have come "at us" to get out the door as we went in. It was clearly terrified of us." So we went home. We do not have a phone number for the man. I am not sure what I am going to do. I may have to make a trip in the morning to find out for myself. There could be a trip to jail and a restraining order in my near future. My boss is going to love this. If you love me, you will have bond money ready.
Wish me luck...however I decide to proceed. And thanks for reading. It could very well be my last post! HA!!!
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