Naked Shenanigans at the QuickFlip

During the third week of March, Hick was home relaxing on a Thursday evening, having just finished his supper in his recliner. He got a phone call from Half Owner of the QuickFlip, the local one. Half Owner had just gotten a phone call from a lady he knew, who lives across from the QuickFlip house. She said there was a naked man standing on the QuickFlip front porch, and the police were there. She went out and listened. Naked man told the police it was HIS house, and that he'd locked himself out!

Hick immediately took off for QuickFlip, to keep police from letting that guy into the house. It's a 20-minute drive in the best of traffic. Once somebody gets into your house, it can take six months or more of legal battles to get them evicted. Hick called the police on the way, saying he wanted to file a report. [CHIME CHIME CHIME! That's Val's BS Meter shouting a warning. How can you file a report of trespassing or vandalism on a property you don't own???]

The police person on the phone told Hick that they'd already taken Nudie to the county jail. They didn't want to go back to the house. Hick insisted. A Girl Cop showed up. Said that since Nudie was already in jail, she didn't see the point of filing a report from Hick. Hick said he wanted a record of property damages. [We'll get to that part later.]

Girl Cop said Nudie had told them it was HIS house. So Hick couldn't file for damages. She radioed in when Hick complained. The officer on the phone asked if Hick had a key. YES! So they sent another cop. Cop 2 questioned Hick's claim that Nudie broke into the house.

"You can see where he BROKE THE DOORKNOB off the back door! The broken bricks he used are laying right there! And he knocked everything off the shelves in the laundry room. He couldn't open the door into the rest of the house, because I have it screwed shut, with a cabinet leaned against it."

"That guy couldn't have done this. He was sick. He couldn't walk to the car without me holding him up."

"I was here at 9:30 this morning, working on this house, and it was not in this condition when I left. I want him arrested for damages. Not for being nude on the porch."

After a bit more of denying the break-in, Cop 2 gave Hick papers to fill out and bring by the police station.

"He said he just stepped out on the front porch to get his water, and the door closed and locked him out."

"Them three jugs are what I filled up and brought here to flush the toilet while I work. The water isn't turned on. The electric's in MY NAME."

Hick said both cops were young, about The Pony's age. They didn't want to do anything for Hick, seeming to believe Nudie's story. [Funny how they didn't believe the guy with the key, but took a sick naked man's word as truth. I guess that's why they're cops, not judges.]

Hick estimated the damages and replacement door at enough to be a felony. The Prospective Buyer, when informed, said, "Let's not tell Mom this." She also asked for Hick to put a new steel door on the front of the house, for which she would pay, along with Hick's labor.

Hick wondered if maybe Nudie had drank water out of those three jugs. They were tossed off the porch into the yard, their caps off, leaking water. They were POOL CHEMICAL jugs he had on hand from treating POOLIO. Granted, he'd used them to tote toilet water several times, starting with the Flip House. So maybe they were rinsed enough. But I sure wouldn't drink out of them.

That's the last we've heard so far about the incident. By the time anything develops, we or Prospective Buyer will be the legal owner. Not sure what that would do to Hick's police report. It's not like he expected to get any compensation from Nudie. Only to keep him off the porch until we sell the property. If that means Nudie has to stay in the county jail, then so be it. He's better off there than naked on a front porch swilling pool chemicals.

Hick the Stealer-Dealer

Hick is good at making deals that don't involve the secure legal parameters preferred by most people. He's a trader. Knows the worth of items, and proceeds accordingly to procure what he wants. His greatest weakness is wanting something so much that his tactic becomes "split the difference, split the difference." Whereas I will set a price I'm willing to pay, and hang onto it like a snapping turtle waiting for thunder. Which is to say that I'm an asset when buying a car, but not good for much else.

Anyhoo... my original point is that Hick plays loosey-goosey with purchases that a normal person would be leery of, lacking legal backing.

Hick has a crew he hangs out with at the Senior Center. He did a kitchen renovation for one of them in January, while she was out of state on vacation. She knows Hick flips houses, and told him she had a friend and his brother who were wanting to sell their deceased mother's house. It's not far from our Double Hovel flip house. She told Hick that Half Owner recently had an offer on the house, but didn't like the prospective buyer, and refused to sell.

Hick said it wouldn't hurt to take a look, and they drove by. Of course Hick got all excited, assessing the worth from the outside, knowing Half Owner had found the original offer not an insult. After a tour of the inside, Hick came home raving about it, and had already called The Pony. I had to remind Hick that our money was tied up in the Double Hovel. We buy properties. We don't finance them. Hick said he didn't plan to do much to this property. Just some minor cosmetic touches, minimal electrical work to update it with more outlets, and then sell it fast. That it was a bargain.

Hick said he would make an offer contingent on the Flip House selling, or May 1st. The Pony and I discussed it. We finally agreed. Hick met Half Owner, and offered $3000 more than the offer Half Owner had turned down. Half Owner agreed to hold the property until May 1st for $500 in earnest money. Pending approval from his brother in Florida. So Hick stole that deal right out from under the other offerer, for $3000 more and a handshake!

HERE'S WHERE THE DEAL BECOMES WONKY!

Half Owner said Hick could work on the property whenever he wanted. Gave him keys to the house and the mobile home. Said Hick could have any of the contents he wanted. Start renovations. Turn on electric and water. That scared the Not-Heaven out of me! You can't get insurance on a house you don't own! Half Owner had no insurance on it. What if somebody got hurt while helping Hick? But wait, it gets MORE complicated!

While showing the Double Hovel to a lady who wanted to buy it for her mother in another state, and an adult grandson who lives with her, Prospective Buyer said she was worried that the main house had a couple of steps. Didn't want that for her mother, though she liked the Beauty Shop apartment (which Hick had just torn the floor out of and started renovating) for the grandson. Stealer-Dealer Hick had a brilliant idea.

"I have another property you might like. It has a house trailer where the grandson could live separately. It's not far. I can drive you by there."

Well. Prospective Buyer really liked the property we did not technically own! She called the next day and offered Hick an amount that would give us a 60 percent profit! Hick told her he was only cleaning out the contents, and correcting a couple of things in the kitchen. Prospective Buyer said that was okay. All she wanted was a couple of trees trimmed. AND some electrical work, for which she would buy materials, and pay Hick for his labor! A side deal that did not affect our future profit.

Hick discussed it with The Pony and me. We agreed, though my anxiety level increased. Hick had essentially sold a property he didn't own, and was doing renovations on it! All for $500 in earnest money from Prospective Buyer.

Let the record show that the earnest monies changed hands, but the only part of the deal on paper was handwritten by Hick, copied by me (whose printer doesn't work), and signed by all of us. No notarization. I'm pretty sure nothing about either deal being legally binding!

Oh, yeah. There was a little problem, and police were called to the property...

Thevictorians' Latest Project

The Pony and I were not pleased to hear OH NO from the lady at the title office. We were there to sign papers that would make us the owner of an investment property. Hick had just left, moments earlier, blissfully unaware of this OH NO moment.

"UPS was just here!" Said The Lady, so casually flaunting The Pony's competitor in his face! "He delivered the papers we've been waiting on from Florida, from the seller. But there's a problem..."

We went into a conference room for the signing. The Lady elaborated that the (half-)owner had ONLY SIGNED ONE PAGE! Not even the page that was  most needed. Just the top page of the packet. She showed us the instructions that were included, about signing ALL PAPERS in the presence of a notary public.

Well. We've been waiting for months already. So this was not a shock. Anything that could go wrong kind of had, already. The Pony and I cut eyes at each other. Sighed. And signed our paperwork. We did not blame The Lady. She was efficient and kind. She even offered to bring papers out to the car for me in the future! I politely declined. They have a handicap ramp. And only one step up into the door. Though their rolly chairs terrified me, The Pony stood behind me so I wouldn't roll away as I sat down.

We called Hick while The Lady went into the other room to try and call Half Owner. Hick was down the street, chewing the fat with his Friday buddy. He came right over. And promptly sat in The Lady's seat, even though I told him twice she was sitting there. Then he moved over, and eyed the puffy peppermint candies individually wrapped in a dish near a pencil holder full of pens. Yes, of course he ate one. No telling how many he had during his appointment 15 minutes earlier.

Anyhoo... The Lady returned, saying he hadn't answered. Hick said he thought the guy was coming in on the 1st, because he had a tractor he wanted to remove from the property. I said, "Isn't THIS the 1st? Maybe you should drive over and see if he's there, getting his tractor."

Just then we heard somebody else arrive. The Lady looked out, and it was Half Owner and his brother, the other Half Owner. So all was well. The papers would get signed, the transaction completed, and Hick will pick up final paperwork on Monday.

Not wanting to take the risk of being longwinded (oh, how Val hates to be longwinded, heh, heh) I will continue with details of this property tomorrow. Be forewarned, it will not end there. Another cliffhanger is on your horizon...

If Anything Can Go Wrong...

I had an important financial appointment with The Pony on Wednesday. Hick was going at 1:00, with an actual appointment. I was going to pick up The Pony, and swing by later, just to sign papers, and not have to sit through a bunch of legalese. 

My plan was to leave home at 12:30, pick up The Pony between 1:00 and 1:15, and be at the office by 1:30. Perfectly doable, despite the blacktopping taking place on our county blacktop road. I allowed time for delays.

I was in the garage at 12:25. Decided that maybe I should take my cane, just in case my knees were feeling contrary. Better safe than sorry. I opened A-Cad's door to get it, and saw NO CANE! Then I remembered that I had used it to get into the house after our last trip to the casino. So I closed T-Hoe's back passenger door, where I had planned to place the cane. Back inside I went. Up the porch steps, dogs romping around me, thinking they were getting their return-home treat, AND another going-away snack. 

Cane in hand, I hobbled down the porch steps again. Started T-Hoe, and heard the CHIME CHIME CHIME alert. Huh. What was THAT about? I looked at the dashboard. It was running through all the things that need servicing. I checked the other notifications. Huh. Now ANOTHER tire sensor must have gone bad, because it said I had --- pressure in BOTH rear tires instead of just one. Also, the oil life was at 18 percent left. Note to Hick.

As I went up the driveway, I decided that maybe I ought to check those warnings again. I turned off T-Hoe, and restarted. CHIME CHIME CHIME. Aha! Rear passenger door ajar! So I got out and walked around to see that I had closed the door, but not all the way. It would not have swung open. But I needed to push it all the way to stop the chiming. At least I saw that the rear tires did, indeed, have air in them as I walked around.

I arrived at The Pony's house at 12:59. Good thing I allowed extra time. We were chatting for a  moment when The Pony's phone rang. It was Hick, saying we could get there any time, that the papers were ready. So we cut our conversation short and drove a couple miles back to the office

When we walked in, the lady in charge greeted us by saying, "Oh, no! You're not going to believe this..."

More details tomorrow.

Yet Another Example of People Unable to Perform the Simplest of Jobs Correctly

It is no secret that Val is a frequenter of Dairy Queen. On the nights that Hick goes to play bar bingo, she picks up her supper of a cheeseburger and soft pretzel sticks off the 2-for-$5 menu. It's not breaking the bank, and the food is usually quite tasty. 

I should have known there would be an issue on Tuesday evening. The mini pickup truck ahead of me took 4 minutes to order! I pegged them as the Chicken Basket type. Chicken Baskets take a while to cook. Not somebody I want to be behind. I'd just come from 10Box, and had groceries to carry in without the help of Hick. And now, I was being penalized with extra wait time. I was especially unoptimistic when I saw the woman in the driver's seat pointing her finger and gesturing at the drive-thru speaker.

When I pulled forward to order, the voice from inside was not the middle-aged man, nor the sweet young woman who usually handles my request. It was a mealy-mouthed girl who was barely audible over the speaker. I gave my usual order, and waited an extra minute before she revealed my price.

Indeed, that mini pickup truck took another five minutes waiting for, are you ready for this, TWO chicken baskets, and a bag of something indiscernible. I was thrilled when I pulled up to the window, and the gal handed me my bag before even taking my card. That's a novice for you! What's to keep me from stomping on the gas, speeding away in T-Hoe without handing over my card? Just my honesty, I suppose.

Anyhoo, once I was home, carried in the groceries, put them away, and sat down with my supper... I discovered that I HAD NO QUESO SAUCE! That is standard with the soft pretzels! It comes with them. No need to ask. Three soft pretzel sticks, and a tiny condiment cup of queso sauce!

You can bet they're going to hear about that on my next visit. Though only AFTER I have the bag in my hand. Not taking a chance on them getting revenge by befouling my food!

Quoth the Crow: "Not Ever Again."

I was not happy to see a giant crow land on the rail of the back porch deck. No good can come of that. It's not a regular occurrence. It came after an incident. So it wasn't foreshadowing. It was post-shadowing. 

The Pony had another dog incident last Tuesday. No bite, but an attack that had to be dealt with. The Pony knew this house had a dog problem. So he had his hand on his dog spray as he approached. When the dog came running at him, he gave it a spray. The motion and the wind made it an indirect hit. So The Pony had to spray a second time. That did the trick. Although the dog recovered enough to chase after The Pony's Metris.

Looks like a border collie mix by the markings, not sure about the curled tail. Anyhoo... The Pony called his manager to report the spraying, and found out that this was the second call she had to make that day concerning a dog going after a mail carrier. In fact, the police stopped The Pony to ask if he had been bitten by a dog. The Pony said yes. They wanted to know where the bite was, and if it broke the skin. The Pony said, "Wait, do you mean TODAY? That's not me."

The Pony is having a considerable amount of PTSD concerning his two previous bites. The reminder is still there:

I am sorry that all my helicoptering cannot help.

Nice Vals Finish Last

At the Gas Station Chicken Store on Saturday, I got in line a few seconds before a guy over on the soda fountain aisle. I was actively standing behind the lady who was paying, when That Guy took two steps to stop at the counter. 

When the lady was finished paying, I looked towards That Guy. He had a bottle of orange juice, and a bottle of other drink in his hands.

"You can go ahead."

"No. You go."

"It's fine. I might take a while." I waved my scratchers that I was cashing in.

That Guy said okay, and stepped up. I was just being nice. It's so refreshing not to have some dude jumping ahead of me like he's entitled.

Anyhoo... That Guy asked for a mini pack of airline-size whiskey bottles. I'm not judging. It was Saturday evening. THEN That Guy proceeded to buy lottery tickets! I heard him asking for some of the tickets I buy. Still, I did not mind letting him go ahead. The Universe will do what it sees fit.

When it was my turn, I told my favorite cashier: "I'm gonna be mad if That Guy gets a bunch of winners!"

Well. When I got home and scratched my tickets, all I won was $9, on a $3 ticket. Nothing on my crosswords, and nothing on my ten. 

Sunday, Fave was not at the counter when I walked in. She was stocking the cooler. She hollered: "Whoever's there, I'll be with you in just a minute."

"Don't worry. It's only me!"

As Fave walked up the aisle, she said: "You're going to kill me!"

"Probably not. Why?"

"You know that guy you let go ahead yesterday? He won $100 on that ten you always buy! I felt so bad! I wasn't sure if I should tell you or not!"

"I always like to know. I guess he was meant to get it. I didn't have to let him go ahead. I just felt like it. At least it means my little winning streak continues. Because I WOULD have won that $100, if I took my turn like normal."

I don't begrudge That Guy his win. I'm the one who told him to go ahead. I figure karma will pay me back, with some prodding from Even Steven and The Universe.