Bargain House Progress: Living Room

The living room of Bargain House is now finished. The flooring is all down, with trim boards painted and installed for the floor and windows.

Of course the sawhorses are not part of the décor, and will not be sold with the house. I think I heard you gasp at the picture. Indeed, I am flabbergasted as well, relying on Hick's statement that "The house is ready to list." Maybe he thought that hanging the questionable artwork made it ready.

I do like the curved ceiling in here, with the original swirl pattern. It's different. Not a cookie-cutter ceiling. There's some retro vibe going on. The front door is to the left of that window. This looks like The Pony took this picture by standing in the door of the small bathroom.

Are you ready for more clutter? Here's the other end of the living room:

It takes a lot of bits and pieces to overhaul a whole house. That window looks out on the side street where Hick parks SilverRedO. There's the entry to the kitchen. Looks like Hick has installed a throne for himself here, to watch Old Buddy work, heh, heh.

Hick stands by his statement that the house is ready to list with a real estate agency. He scoffs when I say that nobody wants to look at a house all cluttered with tools. "Val. A good two hours will get everything cleaned out." Well, then. I say it's time to spend two hours doing that! If, indeed, Bargain House is completely finished.

Bargain House Progress: Small Bedroom

From the small bathroom of Bargain House, we now take a look at the front bedroom it adjoins. That's the door to the bathroom on the left, that is by the shower. The front bedroom looked much nicer right after Hick finished it. Now it seems to have become a storage area for Hick's tools. Especially since he had to move them from the living room to put down flooring there.

See? This does not look like a house ready to list with a real estate agent! Technically, the room is finished and ready to live in. Except for the accumulated odds and ends that might be needed elsewhere in the house. I do like the mirror hanging there, and the light fixture Hick chose.

The dresser, and the end of the bed frame that you see in the background, are furniture Hick moved from the Double Hovel flip house(s). Which originally came from the QuickFlip house we had for a couple months, then sold to an old lady and her grandson. She still lives there, and even had lunch one day a couple months ago at the Senior Center.

This front bedroom is an L shape, due to the addition of the second bathroom. Hick figured that would be a better selling point that a larger bedroom.

That's a full size bed. Otherwise, this little alcove could be used for a desk or sitting area, or to put the dresser, or kids' play area. A bed can easily fit along the front wall under the window, with the head against the side wall with the window you see in the first picture.

The Pony couldn't do much cleaning in here, other than wipe down the baseboards and Swiffer the open floor area. I'm not so sure this picture wasn't taken to shame Hick for the clutter!

Bargain House Progress: Small Bathroom

Over the next few days, I'll be showing you parts of Bargain House. I don't want to load all the pictures at once. HIPPIE has been overheating and shutting down several times a day. Also, I'm lazy, and lose interest after a couple of photos.

On Monday, Hick picked up The Pony, who was going to do some cleaning while Hick was without Old Buddy, and putting up trim board.

We'll start with the small bathroom that's off the living room, and also opens into the front bedroom.

Looks like Hick has been doing some interior decorating! I don't think I'd be wanting to use that towel to dry my hands. Especially after Hick's instructions to The Pony.

"I told Pony, 'You have to clean the toilet, too.' And Pony said, 'There isn't a toilet brush.' 

I said, 'Just use a rag and get down in there and scrub it.'"

"EWW! I wouldn't do that! Not without gloves!"

"Why not? I do it. It's just water."

"Not after you've been using it all this time while you're working there! And Old Buddy, too! I don't blame Pony a bit. That's nasty to do with bare hands."

"Well, we found the toilet brush in the big bathroom. So it got cleaned anyway." (Which was obviously after the picture was taken!)

The shower looks nice and sparkly. Though The Pony didn't take credit, saying it was already pretty clean, and will just need some Windex on the outer side, once Hick is completely done with raising dust while sawing and hammering. Hick finally put on the shower door, which he had to special order from Lowe's. The door there leads into the front bedroom.

This is the only room from the pictures The Pony sent me which actually looks ready for Bargain House to be listed for sale. Hick has been a bit misleading (shocker) about the degree of "done-ness" of Bargain House. 

Which you will see as I show the other rooms...

Dead of Winter

I made Hick stay home on Sunday, with the deadly wind chills after the 9 inches of snow. He puttered around the house, declaring that he was going to town on Monday. Which was no better weather, other than the snow was over, and the sun came out.

There's SilverRedO, parked on the side street at Bargain House. At least Hick waited until 8:00 to leave home, rather than 6:00. He said the roads were terrible.

The sidewalk for Bargain House's back door is there somewhere! Hick was planning to list Bargain House for sale this week. I persuaded him to wait until the snow has melted. I don't want the listing photos to show the snow. If it's still on the market in the summer, people are going to look at it and right away say, "Oh, something must be wrong with this one if it's been on the market so long." Whereas if the pictures are not proclaiming a certain season, they might ask for a tour, not thinking to look up how long it's been for sale.

On a sad note, Hick found out that Realtor passed away on Sunday evening. I had been worried about her since she called Hick on December 29th and said she would be retiring. Especially since her unfortunate ambulance ride she discussed at our next-to-last last closing. She was a nice lady, about a year older than Hick. She grew up in a rough part of town (according to her stories), and worked hard for what she got. She's the one who listed Pony House. Hick liked the way she did business, and we used her agency ever since. 

As Hick said, she was doing what she loved, right up until the last month. He talked to the young guy who worked with her, who said she didn't even tell HIM anything about her health, only that she was retiring to have some time for herself. She will be missed.

This is Why The Pony Needs Helicoptering

We ended up with about 9 inches of snow. Here's a view from my kitchen table, of the back porch through the window. No way am I opening the door to single-digit temps for a picture!

This was Monday. Nice and sunny. 

Hick took a picture on Sunday morning, before the accumulation was done. He DID open the door, and swept off some snow that blew right back later.

Relieved that The Pony was safe at home, with prescriptions filled and food in the fridge and the cabinets open to stave off freezing water lines... I didn't intrude on the weekend. Sunday evening, during a break watching football, I called to set up a workday with Hick at Bargain House. The Pony was planning on sweeping and Swiffering and cleaning the bathrooms. Hick was itching to get out in the 9 inches of snow and below-zero temps, and Old Buddy wasn't working.

"Dad says he can come pick you up tomorrow at 10:00, and you can work on cleaning Bargain House while he finishes some painting. Make sure to wear real shoes. And a coat. In case you get stranded in the snow. I know it's only a couple miles from your house, but this is deadly cold."

"Yeah. And how many cars did dad run off the road when he tried to pick you up from the hospital in that snowstorm?"

"At least two!"

"I was with him in the last one, waiting to get pulled out!"

"He's taking that same road again, if our blacktop road hasn't been plowed."

"Oh, great. Hey, wanna hear something you might find disturbing?"

"Well... I guess so."

"You know how I've been telling you I think squirrels are getting in my attic? From the corner of my house by the driveway? I wanted to see if they were leaving footprints out there where I suspect they're going in. So I went outside in the snow to look. I was running a hot bath. I went out to walk along the back of my house and look around the corner. Without shoes."

"NOOOO! You could lose your feet! What if you fell? You could have died in a few minutes! It's SO COLD!!!"

"I'm fine, Mom. Remember when our hot tub used to work? And Dad would take me and Genius out there in the winter?"

"Yes. You were probably 4 or 5."

"Sometimes there was snow that had blown in under the porch. Or just the concrete being so cold. But the first 30 seconds of putting my cold feet in the hot water felt SO GOOD! Just like today when I put my snowy feet in the bathtub!"

"Dang it, Pony! I'm trying to keep you alive! Don't do stuff like that!"

"Mom. I'm fine. I'll wear shoes to go work on the house."

No word on whether The Pony found squirrel-invasion evidence. I didn't think to ask.

The Universe Even Smiles on Val's Rumpus Some Days

Wednesday evening, Hick came in with a stack of three papers. Papers that needed filling out by Thursday. Papers that would not be filled out by Hick, whose writing is virtually illegible. His Rs look like Ws. I can barely decipher the NUMBERS on the monthly itemization of cash outlays for Bargain House. At least there are only 10 numbers. Not 26 letters.

___________________________________________________________

Welp! Here's a prime example of why I must do the filling out of forms. I just had a space cadet moment, forgetting if there are 24 or 26 letters in the alphabet. I called out the question to Hick. 

"How many letters in the alphabet?"

"27."

"No way! I know it's 24 or 26. It's definitely not 27!"

"A...B...C..." Hick was counting on his fingers. "Yep! 27!"

"NO! I know that's too many!"

"Look it up on your phone, then!" Hick said as I sat in front of HIPPIE, typing.

I consulted my estranged BFF Google. "It's 26. What'd you do, make up a letter?"

"I guess I left one out." 

Looks like I won't consult Hick about math, either!

___________________________________________________________

Anyhoo... this paperwork was forms from the title company Hick brought home to fill out for the sale of HIS LAND.

"I thought they were doing all the paperwork. That's what we're paying them for."

"They just need this basic stuff to put in. Like the legal description of the property. And our signatures saying we're married. That's why you have to go by there tomorrow to sign papers. Because I'm married to you. I signed all the papers today. Now you have to."

This was not something I particularly wanted to do, but I looked up the legal description with township and plot and block from the tax receipts, and filled out all the info I knew. Then I had to call The Pony so we could meet earlier for Errand Day, to allow time for the title office. 

Usually we are all there together for such a transaction. Now Hick had abandoned me. But The Pony was willing to accompany me, to stop my rolly chair from sliding out from under me, and to assist me with a hand in getting up from the table after the signing.

"I really hate this, Pony. I've been stressing all night. I think I'll take my cane. I feel more secure. Nobody wants to have to get me up off the floor!"

"I'll help you, Mom. No problem."

"Maybe you can take in these forms, and just say, 'My mom needed to drop these off and sign papers. Are you ready for that now, or should she come back. She wanted to know before she walked in.' They know us there. They know how I hobble."

"Yes. I can do that."

The Pony trotted in, while I readied my cane. They have a nice concrete ramp there, with a rail. Or three steps with a rail. But the doorjamb is a step up. The Pony returned in five minutes.

"She looked at the papers, and went to the file to see if they were ready. She says she can bring them out to you if that would be more convenient."

"YES! That's great!"

The Pony went back to tell her. The gal came out. It's not the one we usually have at closings, who Hick had talked to and was doing the title search. I don't recall having met this one. But she was SO NICE! I got those papers signed in no time, from the comfort of T-Hoe's leather seat.

"Thank you so much for bringing these out. It really helps me. Oh, and my name is spelled wrong on all three signature places."

"Oh, no!"

"Maybe I could cross through them, and print the right spelling, and initial?"

"No. I think we have a way we can fix it. I need to check the other papers, too. To make sure we get it right. We already have a copy of your ID from the last closing, so I don't have to get that."

It was the easiest closing ever! Hick asked later if she gave me the check. But she had told us the other party had not yet been there to sign. So they'll call Hick when they have the check ready, after subtracting out our half of the closing costs.

That darn Hick needs to learn how to spell my name! And if the title company had my ID, why didn't they check THAT to make sure the spelling was right? Probably because they trusted Hick to know how to spell his own wife's name the first time we were there, and he got it wrong. They must have been referring to those initial papers when drawing up new ones. Because I've had to tell them it's wrong at other closings, too. Oh, and Hick still hasn't changed my name on the title on his new old trailer yet.

Pony Goes A-Druggin', Uh Huh

We were able to squeeze in Errand Day on Thursday, ahead of the upcoming storm. I wanted to make sure The Pony was prepared.

"Do you need things from the store while we're there? Because you won't want to get out. Tomorrow the high will be in single digits, and the wind chill below zero. Then the snow Friday night and Saturday. You don't need to be out getting food, or making someone else risk their life to deliver it."

"I have a few things to get, like apples and peanut butter and bread. But my freezer is full."

So I was relieved when I dropped The Pony off later. No need to get out in the dangerous weather.

"When I leave, you back your car out, and then back into your driveway. That way you're facing out, in case the street gets plowed and leaves a snowbank. Also, if your car won't start, Dad can pull in nose-to-nose to jump your battery. Or AAA, or whoever. But they won't have to drive in your yard and risk sliding down into your car or the house."

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure my battery won't be a problem, because Dad just got me a new one a few months ago."

"You never know with these below-zero temperatures for four days!"

"Okay. And I'll also pop up my windshield wipers. Because I know how hard it is to get them loose with snow or ice over them."

Of course I called when I got home, to make sure The Pony had done those two things. As well as open up the kitchen cabinets under the sink, to help the water not freeze, and let the tap drip.

"Yeah. But I didn't turn on the water yet. And I'm leaving the windshield wipers down, because I checked, and I need to pick up a refill on one of my prescriptions tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! It's going to be so cold!"

"I'll be fine, Mom. I've been out in the cold before."

"You wear a coat! And actual SHOES! Not those slides!"

"Okay. I will."

"And text me when you're back home and inside the house!"

"I will, Mother."

Except Friday at 11:00, The Pony sent me a text:

"I just checked, I can wait until Monday or Tuesday to get the prescription so I won't do a town trip. So you can relax. I love you, Mom!"

"There might be snow then!!! And it'll be just as cold! You can go today. Safer today."

The Pony waffled on that idea. But a phone call and my insistence that being out on a cold day was better than being out on a cold day with snow on the roads. The Pony countered that the roads would be clear on Tuesday. I begged to differ. "The chemicals won't work at temps this low! We're getting 9-12 inches! Those roads won't be clear for a while. And the pharmacy might be closed, because their workers can't get in."

By 12:30, The Pony was ready to leave. It was the lesser of two possible heart attacks for me! The Pony agreed to text me at each stop. Which now included lunch out.

It looked delicious to me, who was having no lunch. Except for the sushi. I recognize white rice, crab rangoons, and sweet and sour chicken. I'd eat the other stuff, too, though I don't know what it is.

Anyhoo... The Pony was home by 1:47. With the refill. Backed in. Wipers up.

Such a relief. It's really hard for my helicopter to lift off, in singe digit temps, especially after being up on blocks for so long.

The Stick Might Be Too Long to Reach the Carrot

Remember way back in September, when Val was overruled by Hick and The Pony, concerning a possible new flip house? Which, for obvious reasons, we call Cheap House. Too good to be true. Which is proving to be the case.

In October, we still hadn't heard anything about a closing date. By December, I was starting to think this deal would never be completed. 

Last week, Hick went by the financial institution to take out some of HIS MONEY to buy merchandise for his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) on the day he (deliberately or not) avoided bringing me home a REUBEN. He talked to Loan Officer about what was taking so long to get a closing date.

"He said they are going to foreclose. That the lady can't pay off the judgements against the property that they found in the title search. That one of them alone is over $10,000. And she ain't been callin' me about it lately, either. 

Loan Officer says they have to post a notice in the paper. Then it will have to be auctioned on the courthouse steps. That's legally how they have to do it. But once they foreclose on it, the judgements go away. We can't be responsible for any money owed. That falls back on the owner who got foreclosed."

"So we might not end up with it at all? If somebody else bids more than what our offer was, that they already approved?"

"Yeah. I guess they could take the best offer."

"I'm not paying one cent more than our original offer!"

"I know. I'm not, either."

"It won't bother me all that much if we don't get it."

"Yeah. It's a good price for where it is, but I'm not changing anything we've talked about to buy it."

I called The Pony, who agrees that with it having been so much trouble already, trying to acquire this house, maybe it's not meant to be. The Pony is fine with letting it go to somebody else, rather than increase our offer.

Something else will come along. Or nobody else will want this property, and we'll get it for our previously agreed-upon (and approved) price.

Inching Towards a Listing

Hick got a text from RE Agent one evening this week. He's the guy who is taking over Realtor's business since her retirement. RE Agent was asking how much we had rented the Double Hovel main house for. Said an appraiser wanted to know. Hick told him we never rented it. Just sold it.

WHY would an appraiser want to know that? Surely the buyer isn't selling it already, after dismantling Hick's work in that cute little Beauty Shop apartment! Hick said he had seen the washer and dryer sitting on the curb in front of the main house. Not sure which of the two houses this came out of. I could understand if the guy got new appliances. But just to tear them out and give them away seems counterproductive if it was the Beauty Shop. It's hard to let go of that little darling!

Anyhoo... RE Agent also asked when Hick might be ready to list Bargain House. Hick told him maybe next week. Not so great, with four days of snow and below-zero weather coming up this weekend. But not too bad, because pretty soon people will be getting their tax refunds, and might want to use them as part of a down payment. The Pony and I have agreed on Hick's price, and vow to let it languish at that amount until May or June before we lower it.

Hick is piddling around with odds and ends. Cleaning out his tools and lumber. Yesterday he painted the laundry room. He put in a storm door on the back of Bargain House on Thursday.

"Storm door installed." Actually, Hick's text said, "Store door installed." But I know that's not what he meant. I am fluent in Hick-speak and Hick-write.

"Nice. I didn't know you had one."

"I have lots of stuff I aquire (apparently spelling is NOT something Hick has acquired.) New door is almost $300.I bought this one from a guy at the lockers."

"For how much?"

"$100.00."

I can imagine Hick as a Mr. Haney, traveling through Backroads in a broken-down old truck loaded with assorted "treasures." Except Hick would be an honest trader.

Bear With Us

Hick sent me a picture of his newest acquisition for the SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5).

"My new bear."

Let the record show that Hick does not have an old bear. This is his first and only bear. That I know of. I don't know why Hick wanted a bear, other than for the ambiance of his SUS2.5. 

"How much was that? And where did you get it?"

"From one of my customers. It was $200."

"Did he shoot it himself?" 

[We do have black bears in our area, and Missouri has a bear-hunting season.]

"No. I don't know where he got it."

"Are you going to sell it?"

"I don't WANT to sell it. But if somebody offers me the right price, I will. I'd take $300 for it. I never plan on selling my deer heads, either, but I've sold about 10 of them."

Hick has plenty of things to sell. That's why he's paying rent on three storage lockers, I guess. This is in his main shop, that has a heater so he can sell through the winter. His high-dollar shop, with his most lucrative merchandise. 

Here's the big picture, to put that bear in context:

As I've said before, Hick's shop reminds me of that one in Gremlins, where the inadequate inventor guy bought the Mogwai. So much going on in this photo. I recognize some items, but others are a mystery.

Not sure what kind of firearms are hanging there. Most definitely not the high-dollar ones, which are locked up. Hick sells a lot of ammunition to hunters through the fall. And maybe winter. I don't think it's a seasonal thing. They don't want to run out, and they want it for a good price.

The headless horns are not doing this shop any favors, but I suppose there's a buyer for everything. I see a couple lanterns. A soldier with a musket. A powder horn for gunpowder. A gazing ball held by antlers. A toy UPS truck. Prince Albert in a can! Some plastic horses. And a weird thing that makes me think of a genie in a bottle.

I suppose the fishing lure market will become more lucrative as the weather warms up. Hick has a bazillion fishing poles that he buys cheap, and refurbishes. With a couple of state parks in the area, and assorted rivers, people buy them if they've forgotten or broken theirs. Hick is cheaper than Walmart.

Walmart probably doesn't stock bear heads.

It Just Ain't a Reuben

Last week, we had lunch with my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel. It's something we usually do just before Christmas, to exchange gifts and Chex Mix and homemade chocolate covered cherries. This year, the schedule was tight, and we didn't get together until after Christmas. In past years, we went to Mabel's beautiful house, but lately we've just been meeting at a restaurant in her town, because of my knees not liking to get in and out of a car multiple times.

We meet at 11:00, because Hick likes to have breakfast for lunch.

This was two eggs, hash browns, bacon, and biscuits and gravy. Hick heartily enjoyed it.

Mabel loves the burgers. She contemplates something else, but goes with her favorite.

That's the basic burger, with the fixin's on the side. In the background is Mr. Mabel, who chose chicken strips and fries for both his sides. 

I was in a quandary. I like the chicken quesadillas. And the burgers. And the pretzel sticks with burnt end mustard sauce. And the grilled chicken sandwich. I'd thought about having a pork sandwich. Not the BBQ pulled pork, but the pounded-out fried patty kind of pork. But then I learned that the special that day was BBQ pork steak, with two sides. Which meant I could have fries AND slaw. So that's what I chose.

The slaw was delicous, and plentiful. The fries are always good. Crisp on the outside, tender on the inside. At first bite, the pork steak was good. I even declared that it was tasty. But upon subsequent sampling, it was not what I had anticipated. Rather than a nice fatty juicy pork steak, such as we grill at home... this was more akin to a pork CHOP. The meat was tender enough, but more dry. Well, the meat that I could access!

We chatted and caught up with happenings and not much gossip this time. Hick ate his entire plate, but the other three of us asked for take-out containers. Of course I finished my slaw, but took some of the pork steak home, along with a few fries. I wasn't so full that I couldn't continue, but I don't like eating once everybody else is done.

When I got out my leftovers for supper, I was further dissatisfied with my BBQ pork steak.

It was mostly BONE! I buy pork steaks for grilling. Some have the big bone, some have a small bone, and some have no bone. I told Hick, I'm sure that's the reason for the "special." They serve the good pork steaks on other days, to people who order it. But on the day for the special, they get rid of the bony pieces. That's my theory, and I'm stickin' to it! I won't order this special again.

Meanwhile, today as I type this, it is REUBEN DAY at the Senior Center. Hick is gone on a monthly buying trip for his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). Even though he's had the January menu since December, he had to pick this specific day of the month to buy his goods. 

NO REUBEN FOR VAL!

That's a shame.

Hick's Harem Wrap-Ups

Hick went back to the senior apartments on Monday. No lunch that day, as it was MLK day and they weren't open. The heat-seeking elderly was home. Hick investigated, and found that her heat was indeed not working! 

"Didn't that make you feel bad? That you didn't believe her?"

"Yeah, a little. But she was fine."

"Did you tell her you came by on Saturday, but she wasn't home?"

"No. But her living room and kitchen heat was working. It was the bathroom and bedroom that didn't. The heater had shorted out. I guess it was when she turned up the one in the bathroom. It's baseboard heat. It might have just been a fuse, but I didn't have time to check that, because I got a call about the guy coming for our own heat pump, and had to leave. 

Anyway, I just disconnected her bathroom unit, and I'll get her a new one. The bedroom will work now that the bathroom is off. So she has heat. She won't freeze.

While I was there, some of the others came to talk to me. Dog Lady saw me first, and said, 'Oh, no. Am I in trouble?' I told her no, I was there for something else. She said everything is fine now with her and Imbiber. They squashed their problem. The police came when she called them. He looked at Imbiber, who's real little and spindly, with a walker. And he looked at Dog Lady, who's bigger and kind of stout. Like, 'Why are YOU scared of HER?' He talked to them both, and made them apologize, and that's it. I told her it's just like I always tell everybody there: you have to learn to get along, or find somewhere else to live. She agreed.

Another old lady was there, too. She's really sweet. She said, 'Oh, there you are. You haven't been here in a week! I was worried about you. I'm so glad you're okay.' And she hugged me as I was leaving. Then on the way home, she called me. She said, 'I'm so sorry for hugging you. I know I shouldn't have done that, but I was just so happy to see that you were okay.' I told her it's fine. She can hug me if she wants to. I'm not mad."

Darn that Hick and his elderlies! They shouldn't make me tear up like this...

Once Again, Hick's Harem Beckons

Friday evening, Hick's phone rang. Once again, it was just as he sat down with his supper.

I could hear Hick's part of the conversation from the kitchen.

"Huh. Are you sure? It should be working. Turn it all the way up."

Then nothing. I didn't hear a goodbye. I thought Hick might be waiting for somebody to "turn it all the way up," and report the result. My first thought was that it might be The Pony, about a problem with his furnace. We were expecting single digit temps overnight for Saturday and Sunday. My second thought was that it might be The Veteran, who sometimes calls Hick while working on his truck.

Ten minutes went by, and I could no longer contain my inner Gladys Kravitz. 

"Who's that? What's that phone call about?"

"Just one of the crazy ladies from the apartments. She said her heater don't work. I know it works! I was just there on Wednesday, checking ALL of the heaters, in every apartment. They all worked. Including hers. I set them on 70, but apparently she turned hers down to 60. And now she say's it don't work! It's warmer in them apartments than 60. That's why it's not running. I told her to turn it up. I ain't heard nothin' back, so I guess it worked."

"Are you going to check on it? It's supposed to get REALLY cold!"

"I'll go by there tomorrow afternoon and make sure. But it was working fine when I tried it two days ago. She ain't gonna freeze. It's a second floor apartment. The ones above and below her have heat."

It's not that Hick is uncaring. Or is not performing the duties of his less-than-$300-a-month job. He had tested the heaters, and made sure they all worked. He was not going back to town Friday night to check on this one. He DID go on Saturday afternoon.

"She wasn't there. Nobody home."

"Huh. Maybe she doesn't have heat, and had to go stay somewhere warm!"

"I don't know where she was. But she ain't called back. I'm guessing it worked fine when she turned it up. If not, I guess she'll call me again."

At least this time it wasn't a fracas for Hick to break up. No police, unless that old gal called them to report Hick! He still hasn't heard anything about the Dog Lady and her nemesis. Which may be a good thing.

Hick, the Bi-Wheeler Dealer

Hick went back to the city last week, seeking more merchandise from the place he bought his new used trailer. For which he has yet to receive one red cent, but whatcha gonna do? Can't get blood from an old turnip. 

Anyhoo... this is a lady who is selling off stuff from her dead husband. She has a lot of things like old tools that interest Hick. And some things he usually doesn't seek out.

"She had two bicycles. One of 'em, I could lift with one hand! I couldn't believe how light it was. Some kind of 10-speed. It had really skinny tires. She thinks her husband paid $800 for it. I don't know how long ago that was. And she had another one she thinks he paid $300 for. It was a Mongoose, I think. She said she'd take $100 for the both of them."

"Well, I guess that's a good deal, if you have somebody who wants a bicycle. Walmart sells bicycles. I don't know if your customers want something like that."

"I figure that even if I can get $300 from the both of them, I've tripled my money."

Always the businessman. Hick might need another storage locker.

___________________________________________________________________

UPDATE:

Sunday morning, Hick said he has not yet bought the bicycles. And that lady called him on Saturday, and said she's been looking up the prices online.

"So she might not sell them to me for $100. I'll have to see what she says. She had also asked me about some of her cast iron skillets, and I said they were worth about $30 each. She said she looked them up, and they're somewhere between $20-$70. Well. So is $30. People get to looking this stuff up, but they have no idea what somebody will actually pay for them around here."

I guess this is what Hick gets for honestly telling that lady what her stuff is worth. He needs to smarten up. Not be so eager to be the nice guy. Just offer her a price, take it or leave it.

____________________________________________________________________

Hick's Harem Hijinks

Hick had just sat down with a bowl of pasta shells and a breadstick on Thursday evening when his phone rang. I could hear the ranting while Hick held it to his ear. Maybe it was just that loud, or maybe the sound flowed through Hick's head and came out his other ear...

It was one of the elderlies from the senior apartments. She started out asking if Hick had a minute to talk. 

"Well, I'm home, and I just sat down with my supper--"

I suppose that had just been a rhetorical question, because elderly Dog Lady cut off Hick's answer, and kept on harping. She was going so fast that I wasn't catching everything, and I took that time to change out of my town clothes. When I came back, Hick was saying

"I really can't do anything about that. Other than talk to her. Call the police."

Then some more hyper harping.

"Yes. That's a threat. Call the police, and they'll deal with it."

Dog Lady said, "Call the police? I'm doing that right now!" Hung up. No goodbye.

According to Hick, Dog Lady is the one who has the little dog, with a doctor's note that it's a service dog. And that she doesn't always take it outside, and sometimes it pees in the building. He's mentioned this issue to her before. The other residents don't like her because they think she gets special treatment for being allowed to have a pet. The elderly she was complaining about drinks all the time. Neither of them are the ones who "started the fire" a few weeks ago.

Anyhoo... according to Hick, Dog Lady said that Imbiber is always causing trouble, and told her, "I'm gonna kick your ass, and I'm gonna kill your dog!"

Which do, indeed, sound like threats. Nothing that Hick should be dealing with.

"They want me to be their babysitter! That's not my job. All I can do is talk to them, and I've done that before, telling them they'll have to get along, or they need to go live somewhere else."

"Now you'll be the bad guy again, if she calls the police, because people at the city will say you can't control your residents."

"Let 'em say that! I don't need this job." [EXACTLY!] "That's what my boss told the Mayor, when she started on him from what the Fire Chief said, about how we need this rule and that rule about smoking and the trash room. Like we don't already have rules. He told her, 'You know, I don't need this job. I make ZERO salary for doing it.' And then she apologized and said she wasn't blaming him. Well, I don't need it either. I make less than $300 a month. I just do it because I like the people."

I'll be interested to see how this situation turned out. Probably won't know until next week, since Hick doesn't go to lunch on Fridays, and has plans for something else on Monday.

Hick Is Not Only Man's Best Friend

Hick was his do-gooder helpful self earlier this week. He was leaving his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5), sitting at the exit of the gravel lot, waiting for traffic to pass. A white dually truck was coming his way at about 45 mph, heading from nowhere towards town on the two-lane blacktop road.

"I pulled out, and I seen a dog in the back of the truck. He jumped up on the toolbox and started walking back and forth. It was some kind of heeler. Just then, he got too close to the edge, and fell off! On the shoulder side of the road. He rolled a couple times, and almost got run over by the back tires! I stopped, because I thought maybe I could catch him. He might be scared and run off. The guy driving the truck stopped and started walking back. I guess he seen the dog in the mirror.

I opened my door and got out, calling to the dog. And before I could grab him, he jumped up in my truck! Walked across the seat and sat down, like he belonged there! The guy came and tried to get him out, but he just looked at him and wouldn't move. The guy had to walk around and get him out the passenger side. I'm glad the dog was okay, and the guy got him back."

"Heh, heh! That dog was holding a grudge! 'How dare you let me fall out of the truck!' Heelers are smart. For that dog, a truck meant a ride. So when he saw your door open, he was ready to go! He didn't care about you or that guy. He just wanted to ride in the truck."

I'm relieved that the dog wasn't hurt. And relieved that the guy got him back. But mostly relieved that Hick didn't get hurt. That happens sometimes when do-gooder good-deeders stop along the road to help somebody.

Hick Gets Involved in Some Shady Business

Hick went to Walmart on Monday to get mini blinds for Bargain House. He needed seven. Three for the living room, and two for each bedroom. He bought them with our debit card, and took them to Bargain House on Tuesday to install them.

"I got to looking at them shades. We needed two for the big window in the living room. I thought something looked off. When I let down the shade, I seen that four of the ears were broke off. You know, the ends, past the cord that holds it together. I asked Old Buddy, 'Did you break off the ends on one of the shades?' And he said no. He said, 'Look. It ain't even the same color.' They was both white, but one seemed really white, and the other one kind of off.

I had taken the hardware out of the box to hang it. The hardware was closed up in plastic, just like with the other ones. But there was no sign of the broken off ears. Not on the floor, not in the box."

"Somebody returned it! I bet they bought a new shade, and put their old broken one in the box, and took it back with the receipt!"

"They might of. It's the only explanation for the different color, and the broken ends. I'll take it back and exchange it."

Which Hick did, on Tuesday. He was shocked at the procedure.

"I took that broken shade back and showed them. I said I'd just go back and get another one. But they wouldn't let me do that! They gave me a gift card for the amount on the receipt. And I had to go back and get another one, and then use the gift card to pay for it!"

"Yeah... that's how they do returns. They were doing that even when I was going to Walmart. And I haven't been there since 2020."

"So what will they do, credit our debit card?"

"No... they gave you back the money on a that gift card. So we're not out any money. You got it back, and spent it again on the other shade."

We're not out any money. Just a little incovenience for Hick, due to some rumpushole trying (and succeeding) to scam Walmart for a new mini blind.

Dumb Man Walking

To understand a Hick conversation, you have to be a little bit psychic. Sometimes, my "shine" is not at the level of Danny Torrance (any Stephen King readers get my drift?).

Tuesday evening, Hick started rattling on about something while I was making his supper of shell noodles with red sauce. I could hear him, but didn't have a clue what was going on.

"You'll never believe what Nick did today. He was out walking on U Highway, and headed for P highway. He had dropped his car off and they wouldn't give him a ride. So he was WALKING!"

Let the record show that Hick has several buddies named Nick. And that the most recent mention of a Nick was last week, when a Nick died. I was pretty sure that wasn't the Nick in Hick's tale, but there's also a Nick that is a regular at Hick's SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5), and a Nick that lives out here on our gravel road.

"I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Nick! He was going to walk home! All the way to Nowhere! I would have just not left my car! They could do it another time, when I knew I had a ride. But that dummy left his car there anyway, and was going to walk home! He said it's 26 miles."

"Wait! I STILL don't know who you're talking about!"

"Nick! From Nick and Bev. Our old neighbors that I was going out to Nowhere today to work on the front door I put on for them. Bev said it didn't work."

"Oh. That totally does not surprise me in the least, now that I know which Nick you're talking about. They're crazy! But how did you know about it? I guess he didn't call Bev to come get him, because he knew she wouldn't leave the house..."

"She wouldn't of left the house. But he tried to call her and couldn't get her. Reception is terrible out there. I've told you that all along. You can't call me or text me there. But Nick was lucky. He called me, and I was still in range. Another mile, and I wouldn't have been. He said he was walking along U highway, and if we saw him to pick him up. So I turned around and drove to find him, and gave him a ride. He'd already gone 6 miles! It took me about 10 minutes to get to him, and then 10 minutes backtracking to where I'd been."

"Well, that's good you could give him a ride."

"I cain't believe he thought he was going to walk that whole way. Bev even asked him why he was getting his car serviced there, instead of up by where he works."

"And she's crazier than he is! But had more sense. What if he'd tried to walk from where he works? That's at least another 30 miles!"

"I don't know. Nothin' they do makes sense. I thought she was probably just not understanding how the door works, but it actually had a broken part. So now I have to get that fixed."

I suppose Hick the savior was in the right place at the right time for Nick. Those 2-lane blacktop highways are no place for a walkin' man.

Hopefully Soon This Room Will be Ready for Living

Hick switched his attention from the Bargain House kitchen to the living room last Wednesday. Once the refrigerator and stove had been moved into the kitchen, it was time to put flooring down in the living room. Hick always says "we" did it, but looks like Old Buddy is doing the work!

That's a good-looking floor. It would speak favorably to me if I was viewing the house with the purpose of purchasing it. I don't know where Hick got that spindly table that his saw is sitting on. It probably came with the house. I can't imagine him moving such a thing in there to work on. 

Hick says he plans to get new mini-blinds for the windows. He's not going all-out for window coverings in a property we are ready to sell. But the old blinds are doing it no favors.

On Thursday, the flooring was all down. Here's a view from the front door area, showing how the living room leads to the kitchen.

The living room still needs trim and receptacle covers, but is basically done. Hick has a little shoring-up work to do under the house, and maybe something in the half-basement. He says he's about ready to list Bargain House for sale, because he can do that work without interruption, even if an agent wants to show the house.

Sadly, our Realtor has retired! She called Hick to tell him. She said the young guy who was working with her is capable of handling the sale. I don't have a problem with that. He's helped Hick a couple times when Realtor was out of the office. I don't see any reason to go with another agency. Any realtor can show the house, just by contacting the office.

(Part 3) A Mystifying Development in the Case of Rumpushole vs Rumpushole

News flash! There IS no honor among rumpusholes! But you probably knew that already.

Hick had in writing (or at least in a text message) the confirmation from Sonny of a property deal. Sonny is the son of Business Owner who has been using HIS LAND for part of a driveway while Hick pays the taxes. The agreement was that Business Owner would pay Hick $1200 for a quit-claim deed to HIS LAND next week in exchange for Hick NOT objecting that evening to a request for a variance to use other properties along the back for another driveway.

Hick followed through with his part of the deal. He went to the variance meeting, and stated that he had reached an agreement with Business Owner, and had no objection to the proposed variance.

The next day, Hick got a text. By way of Sonny, because Business Owner apparently can't be a man and deal directly with Hick (that's MY opinion). This text said that Business Owner wanted a title search, not just a quit-claim deed.

Well, the joke is on Business Owner, because Hick had already decided to have a title company handle the paperwork, and the gal there told him it's actually $15 cheaper to include a title search rather than just the deed. AND Business Owner had said he would pay half to get the title search. Which will cost $300. So now that's another $150 going into Hick's pocket from the sale of HIS LAND.

That's a good thing. Though it's not the deal that was struck at the 11th hour to shut Hick's objecting mouth.

But here's another mystifying development! Hick found out that the other pieces of land that got notices about the variance hearing were all ALREADY OWNED BY BUSINESS OWNER! Whether he had purchased them initially, or through the years, we don't know.

Hick was THE LONE OBSTACLE STANDING IN THE WAY OF THE VARIANCE!

If Hick had objected, even though HIS LAND was not in the area that needed variancing... Business Owner would have been denied. I don't know what effect that might have had on his business. Maybe he would have put in another driveway anyhow, as he did over Hick's land. Maybe nothing would have happened.

It seems to me that Business Owner got to looking into the legality of things after telling Hick to go eff himself because he wasn't going to buy HIS LAND back in June.

It would please Rumpushole Hick to no end, thinking that he's been living rent-free in Business Owner's head for the past six months.

(Part 2) A Mystifying Development in the Case of Rumpushole vs Rumpushole

Hick received the confirmation text within minutes, from the son of Business Owner regarding the purchase of HIS LAND in exchange for keeping his objections to himself at the variance meeting.

"This whole thing seems fishy! How would they know you were going to object to their variance request? Somebody at the city tipped them off! Probably to get back at YOU. Nowhere on that letter did it say you had to notify anybody that you had an objection. It was just a notice of the date and time of the meeting, so you could attend and give your input there. Either your buddy the building inspector called him, or that secretary has it out for you! She's probably the one you kept complaining to all those times about Business Guy's sign and driveway, and The Pony's notice for nuisance weeds, and the trash complaint about tea bottles somebody threw out on the vacant lot."

"She WAS the same one! And Sonny said she's the one who called. So that's not a secret. But maybe the building inspector told her to call."

"In any case, I don't think that's part of the process. They were tipping off Business Owner."

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure they were going to deny the variance if there were any objections. So she called to let him know, and that's why he changed his mind about buying MY LAND a couple hours before the variance meeting."

"Basically, he bought your silence for $1200, heh, heh! Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'll be glad that it's settled, and we don't pay taxes on it for him to use. But the timing sure is funny."

"I was just telling my buddy at lunch at the Senior Center. 'I'm finally getting my chance to stick it to Business Owner.' He said, 'How's that?' And I said the guy's name, and how I was going to make a statement at the variance meeting about how he's been using MY LAND while I'm paying taxes on it. And my buddy said, 'Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. He's really a nice guy.'"

"So YOU'RE the big rumpushole, because you object to a nice guy making a profit in his business that is using YOUR LAND for free, for his driveway, and wouldn't consider buying it from you."

"Apparently so! I'm not asking for a fortune. That $1200 isn't going to make or break us. And it's just a drop in the bucket for him. But I'm the bad guy!"

________________________________________________________________

Hick went to the meeting. He saw his boss from the apartments, who happens to be on the board. And a couple other people he knows. He got there about 10 minutes early. All the chairs were arranged around a table for the board. Hick dragged another chair over, to sit behind the people he knew. The (traitorous) secretary was there. 

"She smiled real big, and apologized to me for having to move my own chair. I announced that I had reached an agreement with Business Owner, and that I had no objections to his proposed variance, and then I left."

"That's it? How will they know you kept your part of the deal?"

"It will have to be in the minutes of the meeting. I've been thinking it over, and I'm going by the title office to ask how much they'll charge to write up the paperwork. I'd just as soon do that as risk anything going wrong. I think they charged us $300 when they did it for one of our other properties. So that's worth it to me."

I hope everything goes right with this deal. It will prove that there is honor among rumpusholes.

A Mystifying Development in the Case of Rumpushole vs Rumpushole (1)

Hick left home Thursday morning with plans to work on Bargain House, pay some bills in person for assorted insurances, and work in his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). Then he was going to that variance meeting at 6:00, about the guy who is using HIS LAND as a driveway for his business. The city building inspector had returned Hick's call on Wednesday, and confirmed that he did indeed have a right to make a statement at the variance meeting.

I cautioned Hick not to be too much of a rumpushole, and get arrested. "I don't know how to bail you out. So don't get carried away and locked up."

Hick assured me that he wouldn't.

"You know that guy is going to be fuming. And he'll deny that he told you to go eff yourself when you offered to sell him YOUR LAND."

"I don't care. I want it on record that he's using MY LAND, and I'm still paying the taxes."

"Just say that you know the city probably can't resolve YOUR problem, but that you think it isn't fair that this guy is making money with a business that is using the property of other people, giving them no compensation. That should sound reasonable. And it's the facts."

"I won't get in no trouble. That guy probably ain't even gonna show up."

"I bet he will! You showed up for your variance hearing. Not that it did any good."

_________________________________________________________

Anyhoo... Thursday at 4:20, I got a call from Hick that changed everything!

"I just got a call from Business Guy's son. Sonny said that Business Guy won't be at the variance meeting, because he's in Florida. And that Sonny told him HE can't go either. Sonny said, 'I'm just the middle man. Dad said to call you. The secretary at the city called us about the variance meeting, and said you were going to be there. And she said you would probably be open to selling your property.'

I told Sonny, yeah, that I had offered to sell it to his dad, and he basically told me I was crazy, that wasn't happening, and I could go eff myself.

Sonny said, 'Dad's not a bad guy. You two just got on the wrong side of each other. He talked to a lawyer about it to see what rights he had. I told him, Dad, why not just buy it and be done with it? Because we could spend a lot more money on a lawyer fighting it. So he said for me to talk to you and see what you want.'

I said that I originally asked for $1200-$1500. I've gotta get back the taxes I paid on it for 35 years, and what I paid for it. And I think it's fair if I make a few hundred dollars profit. That's what people do when they invest in land. I told Sonny that I'd take $1200. I ain't tryin' to cheat anybody.

Sonny said that if I'd agree not to object to the variance, and give him a quit-claim deed next week, they'll pay me $1200 for MY LAND. I said that's a deal. As long as he sent me a text stating to those conditions, so I had proof of the agreement."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Another Inkling of Hope for Civilization

I went in 10Box on Wednesday. I try not to go there on that day, because it's when ads come out. All the handicap spaces, and those regular spaces along the front of the store, were taken. So I parked out in the lot to wait for someone to leave. I was next to a cart return that held two carts. As I was contemplating using one as a cart/walker, and just staying there, an employee came over and took the carts. Nope! I was not going to walk unaided across that lot, and halfway across the store to their inside cart corral.

Within five minutes, a guy came out. He looked pretty able-bodied to me, but DID have a handicap plate on his car. He stowed away his groceries in the back seat. Pushed his cart up against the front of the store. Greeted his woman who came out with nothing in her hands but a purse. Then they got in the car and backed out. You can bet I had T-Hoe revved up to go get that space.

I rushed to perch my glasses on my head and get out. I was so afraid some do-gooder was going to grab that cart before I could get to it! An older woman walked past it. And then a young couple. I nabbed that cart and headed inside. Where it was indeed crowded. I had to wait for a looky-loo to finally move past the lemons. Her cart blocked the whole aisle, and had to go out of my way around the onion/potato bins to get there. Huh. Lemons were 48 cents apiece. While limes were 10 cents. I got 10 limes. They go well with Shasta Zero Sugar Cola, too. Of course I had to backtrack to find a bag. I also grabbed a pack of shredded slaw mix from the cooler. 

One aisle over, I picked up a box of Maple Brown Sugar Instant Oatmeal. And a box of strawberry protein bars for Hick. That was it. I had four items. Well. If you count the bag of 10 limes as one item. Which I do.

Only two checkers were open. One had just finished with an old guy in a beeper cart. He was slowly putting his stuff in bags. There there was a guy with a full cart, and a lady with a 3/4 full cart. I was directly behind her, but down an aisle. People coming from my right, across the main aisle, couldn't really see that I was waiting, though I could see them. They might have thought I was just shopping. Or waiting for room to pull out and continue through the store. Two of them stopped. I guess they were putting themselves in line. 

So I turned my attention to the next line, a bit to my left. Still three customers ahead of me. With partially full carts. I pointed my cart/walker in that line. An older lady coming across from the left saw me. She wheeled her cart down my aisle and got behind me. Then a 40-something good ol' boy in jean shorts (it was 66 degrees on Jan 7!) and a baseball cap, with a full cart, wheeled up to the side. Like he was just waiting there for his turn after us.

One of the managers came up and opened a third register. "I can take someone over here!"

Good Ol' Boy was in that line like he had been shot out of a cannon! Ain't that the way it always goes? The last person in line becomes first when a new line opens! The people already in the other lines made no move to go over there. To be fair, they did not have a clear path, and seemed satisfied that they had staked out their "almost-next" positions. 

Older Lady behind me said, "Do you want to go?"

"No. You can go ahead."

She only had one item in her cart. A big bag of birdseed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

Older Lady got behind Good Ol' Boy. I wheeled up behind her.

"Oh, no. I feel bad. You were ahead of me!"

"It's okay. You have less items. I'm fine with it."

Such a sweet lady. Willing to wait with her birdseed for me to take my rightful place in line with my four items. As for Good Ol' Boy... I'm not sure there's hope for humanity if he rules the world. His behavior did not surprise me at all.

Bargain House Kitchen is ALMOST Done

Each day (well, three hours of each day, four days a week) brings the Bargain House kitchen closer to completion. You may recall that Hick was waiting on a box of flooring because he ran out.

There's the part he put down, which matches what he put above the cabinets.

While waiting on the flooring, Hick experimented with the door trim. At first it was going to be white, but he sent this sample, asking what I thought of black:

I like it! So the door trim will (eventually) be black.

The overhead light has been installed:

Hick said it had several settings, and he put it on the brightest. It's an attractive light.

Meanwhile, the stove and refrigerator are now in place:

The kitchen door is still lacking trim, because Hick has to get more trim boards. But the flooring is done, so there's that.

My opinion is that the kitchen will be what sells the house. Hick thinks it will be the small bathroom, with the corner shower, because it gives the house two bathrooms.

Hick Might as Well be Playing Whack a Mole

Hick has several things needing his attention. Just when he thinks one is under control, he discovers it is not. Like the upcoming city meeting about the property of the guy who is squatting on HIS LAND. Hick called to talk to the building inspector, to see if he would actually be allowed to speak at the meeting concerning this guy's request for a variance. The building inspector wasn't in, so Hick left a message. Never got a return call. So Hick plans to show up anyway.

Remember the "fire" at the apartment building? Hick and Old Buddy installed new locks on the doors of assorted closets and storage rooms, so they all work on the same key. Well. On Monday, Hick discovered that one of the doors with a new lock had been kicked in! Not completely. Nobody gained access. But the frame of the door was damaged, and had to be fixed. Hick can't imagine anybody that would do that. Unless maybe a vagrant somehow got into the building, and wanted to sleep in that room. Funny how only one door was damaged.

Oh, and you may recall that Hick talked to his boss about his dissatisfaction with how the Fire Chief handled the emergency, concerning the lock box and not knowing how to access the apartments. Hick's boss has since talked to the mayor about it, who was quite displeased with the info. Saying that she had personally sent the chief an email about the lock box, as she had promised at the city meeting. And she was going to search her emails to see if the chief had even read it.

None of these untied ends are going to endear Hick to city power-holders...

Maybe It's Not the End of Civilization Just Yet

I was not thrilled to see a small black SUV parked in my rightful handicap space at the Gas Station Chicken Store on Sunday afternoon. No handicap plates, but sometimes there's a placard hanging from the mirror, that I can't see from behind. At least the parking space by the FREE AIR hose was empty. I pulled past the diesel pumps, made a U-turn in the alley, and nosed T-Hoe into that FREE AIR space. As I've mentioned before, there is still plenty of room behind that space for a vehicle to pull in and stretch that air hose to all four tires.

Anyhoo... I was not thrilled about walking twice as far. But it is what it is. With the sun's glare, I couldn't tell if there was a handicap placard hanging in the small black SUV. But I DID see a driver behind the wheel. Huh. I waited a couple minutes, but that car didn't leave. I heaved a put-upon sigh. Opened T-Hoe's door, and got one leg out onto the running board.

What's THIS??? The small black SUV was moving! Leaving my rightful handicap space. I might or might not have muttered "RUMPUSHOLE!" Just because I was already halfway out. But I hadn't stepped down yet, so I maneuvered my left leg back inside, started T-Hoe, and rolled down into my rightful handicap space. Then began my dismount efforts again.

Huh. That small black SUV had parked sideways up by the dumpster, behind the FREE AIR space I had just vacated. I guess maybe he needed some FREE AIR. As I got my knees loosened up to begin my trek inside, and closed T-Hoe's door, I heard someone call to me from the small black SUV. It was the curly-haired 20-something driver.

"I'm sorry about that! I was just waiting for someone to get air."

I have no idea what came over me! I was not at all mad at this kid! He was APOLOGIZING!!! Thinking of how his actions had affected another human being!

"Oh, that's okay. I'm here now. It's not a problem."

I think maybe my heart grew two sizes that day! I didn't even question why This Kid had been sitting in the handicap space when the FREE AIR space was open. Nor why there was only one customer inside, who did not go to the small black SUV upon leaving, nor why The Kid was still sitting there alone, not getting any FREE AIR, when I came back out.

All that mattered was the kind apology. Which may or may not have had anything to do with the presence of two police cars sitting across the moat facing our way, on the parking lot of Hick's pharmacy.