Hick Takes the Cake, After Getting Spammed By Val

Being trapped at home Monday was not all bad. I had been trying to figure out what I was making myself for supper. Nothing sounded especially delicious. I had considered going by Dairy Queen while in town, for a cheeseburger and pretzel sticks off their 2 for $5 menu. I haven't been there in months, what with Hick never going anywhere in the evening anymore. Heh, heh. By now it's probably more than $5. 

I had also considered making tuna salad, but my tuna was in T-Hoe's rear, and I didn't want it bad enough to walk to the garage to make before town. Also, I thought of making myself a chicken bowl, which is like the one they used to serve at Hardee's, with refried beans, cheese, salsa, chicken, and sour cream. My sour cream expired in September. I thought it would probably be okay. What could happen? It might get sour-er? Or maybe I would have frozen chicken, with BBQ sauce slaw on the side.

Well. None of those options were needed, because HICK BROUGHT ME A MEAL FROM THE SENIOR CENTER! That was without me even asking. Before we had any inkling that the flash floods would keep us from town that afternoon.

Hick sent me a text around noon, saying he was bringing me a taco lunch.

Look at that! I'm not a big fan of tacos, but that looked fantastic. When I read the Senior Center menu that Hick brought home, I discovered that it was NOT tacos.

Cheeseburger Wrap

Wrap, burger, lettuce, cheese

Wedges

Funfetti Cake OR Fruit

Didn't matter to me what they called it! I ate the whole thing for supper, and added some Frank's Original Red Hot Sauce, salsa, and chopped onions. I was STUFFED! I have been cutting back since May, and this is the most food I've eaten in one day, except perhaps when The Pony came out for grilling.

Oh my gosh! I LOVE Funfetti cake! But I told Hick right away that I was giving it to him. I've lost 65 pounds, and I didn't do it by eating cake. So while I held out on giving him any of the tacos (cheeseburger wraps) and wedge fries, Hick at least had a dessert. Besides, he had the taco meal himself for lunch.

Since I had to come up with something to feed Hick, I gave him fried SPAM sandwiches. He was fine with that. He likes them. With a slice of onion and some yellow mustard.

This put tuna salad on my menu for Tuesday evening, when Hick is working at the election. It's not quite as filling as these tacos and fries.

There Was No Joy in Backroads, Scratching Val Could Not Get Out

No scratchers for Val on Monday. The Universe ruled with an iron fist. Rain Sunday night through Monday afternoon. FIVE INCHES of rain. Probably more. That's just what the news reported.

I was hoping for the forecast break in the rain around 3:00. Then I'd be able to get to town for my beloved scratchers before the next wave, with possible tornados, rolled in around 8:30. Hick came home at 1:00 with his BIG SANDWICH that he's taking to the election with him Tuesday.

"You ain't goin' to town."

"Why? There's supposed to be a break in the rain around 3:00."

"Well. You MIGHT make it," said Hick as he put his sweatshirt in the dryer. "There's water on the gravel road along the creek, but you can get through. And down here at the bottom of my [badly blacktopped] hill, the little creek is over about 8-10 inches."

"And you drove THROUGH IT???"

"Yeah. That one ain't no problem."

I've driven through it with five or six inches of water on it. It's a little bridge, about six feet across. Hick was getting ready to leave for an auction around 3:30. I went to have my nap. The rain kept pouring down, even when I got in the shower at 2:30. I decided I was NOT going to town. If I had a problem, Hick would not be around to rescue me. I made him promise not to take his usual backwoods way to the auction, and instead take the interstate and the state highway.

I was pretty sad when I sat down at HIPPIE with a bowl of BBQ potato chips, and no scratchers. Then startled when I heard the dogs barking, and Hick came through the kitchen door.

"I ain't goin' NOWHERE! The water is over the big bridge now!" 

That means we're trapped between two overflowing bridges, even if we make it down to the county blacktop road where Mailbox Row sits. Oh, and we didn't get any mail either! Anyhoo... there's a third bridge that would also be flooded, on our third option out. Leaving only one way, which takes us about 10 miles out of the way, to get on the interstate up by the state park. Even that's not for certain, because there's a little creek on it as well, which would most likely be flooded in a rain of this magnitude.

Hick got some pictures on his attempted trip to the auction.

That's the little bridge, on a usually dry creek that feeds into the main creek. Hick is parked at the bottom of his badly-blacktopped hill, and that's the main gravel road across the water. Taking a right turn there puts you on the main gravel road to get to Mailbox Row and the county blacktop road.

This is the main gravel road. As you can see, the creek has no concept of boundaries! WAY down straight ahead, you can see a portion of a vehicle sitting on the blacktop road, perhaps unsure what to do. I would suggest going back to your home that is between the two flooded bridges! 

This is the concrete edge of the main bridge. Mailbox Row is out of picture frame to the right. Hick is parked on our gravel road, facing the way back home. In all the years we've lived out here, I have never seen this bridge flood! It was a replacement bridge for a low-water version that used to flood frequently. We thought we had it made until THIS!

To give you an idea how high this water is, I'll put a picture of the bridge during normal times.

That's the old bus-waiting shed, but you can see the creek and bridge behind it. 

Don't you worry about Val. At least from the standpoint of flooding. I know not to drive into flowing water. My hillbilly mansion sits high on a hill, more tornado bait than a sitting duck for flooding. We can hear the creek roaring down behind the house, but it's never going to be high enough to even see it through the trees. If I'm absent from the Blogoverse, it's most likely due to the electricity going out.

Hick is hoping the water will go down enough overnight so he can get to his election judge duties by 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday.

No News Is Okay News

There's nothing new to report on the Double Hovel flip house. No offers, or walnut-stealers, or signs of real estate agents showing it to prospective buyers. Of course, we don't get notified of showings by our agent, or other agencies. So showings could still be happening.

Hick and The Pony and I are fine with this. We think that people are waiting to see what happens with the election, and what changes might then occur with interest rates early in 2025. A clue is that when I checked yesterday, there were 5 multi-family investment properties available in our county. As I've said before, it's hard to find investment properties around here. They usually go quickly. So it's not that people just don't want our Double Hovel. They don't want anything right now. 

That $35,000 "tear-down" house is still listed. And a house for $1, which requires online bidding through an auction service. The $18,500 house that Hick looked at twice, but declared too money-sucking, is still unsold. Our realtor had 11 properties for sale when we listed the Double Hovel a little under two months ago. Now she has 20 properties. Looks like nothing is moving.

The other available investment properties, through assorted agencies, include a 4-unit apartment building. A house with three outbuildings that are currently occupied, and rented month-to-month, which listed for about $20,000 under the price of our Double Hovel. A house with three mobile homes behind it that are currently rented. And a new duplex that is located in an area that has a 99.80 risk of flooding within the next 30 years. 

As I've mentioned, we don't have a loan on the Double Hovel. All it's costing us is electricity and water. That's about $50 a month for us, and for The Pony. Plus the insurance, which is for a renovation property, since we can't get regular homeowners' insurance because it is not occupied. That's around another $50 per month for each of us. Not a hardship. We are planning to sit tight at the current listing price until mid-summer next year. Then we will re-evaluate our asking price.

Val Grudgingly Allows a Smidgen of Sympathy for Hick

I do feel a bit sorry for Hick, in his ongoing feud with a denizen of the Senior Center. They used to be such fast friends, he sitting at the workers' table, convening for bar bingo once a week, getting texts for objects of interest to him. Now he is persona non grata with that denizen. 

Sure, Hick is a hard-headed know-it-all. That has never stopped him from having a plethora of buddies. He got on quite well with this denizen for over a year. Nobody knows what caused the fissure in their relationship. It seems to be beyond repair.

Hick tries to treat Denizen with a modicum of courtesy. Does not go out of his way to speak. Doesn't gossip. Last week, Denizen had an object on Facebook that Hick wanted. He sent a text that he would take it. No reply. The next day, Denizen responded: "Since you were the first person to ask for it, you can have it." I don't know what it was. Some treasure that Hick bought for whatever the asking price was.

"You know that you were probably the ONLY person interested, right?"

"Maybe."

"Because no way would she have sold it to YOU if anybody else had made an offer!"

Anyhoo... Hick thought that might be a sign that the frosty relationship was thawing. But NO! It seems that Not-Heaven is freezing solid-er!

"I made it over there to lunch the other day, and she was talking about the Christmas party. 'We'll have The Grinch, and maybe a Santa...' After I played Santa last year! I don't know who else she thinks she's going to get. It's like an insult! MAYBE they'll get a Santa!"

A few days ago, Hick went to lunch again. 

"I don't even like going there anymore. I was sitting at the table, talking to Edna, and Denizen came in and sat at the table next to us. She said, 'Edna, come over here and sit with me.' And Edna said, 'That's okay. I'm fine here.' It's like she goes out of her way to be mean."

Seems like it. I feel bad for Hick. Nobody else there has a problem with him, and ask what the deal is with Denizen. Nobody knows. Not even her husband.

Val's Halloween Horror

I went to the bank on Halloween. Not because it was Halloween, but because it was Thursday, the regular day that I do errands in that town. I used to live there, in my $17,000 house, and have used the same bank through two changes of ownership. It was convenient back then. Now, not so much, but I DO have other business over there once a week.

Anyhoo... I hadn't been to the bank for two weeks. That's because I didn't need to withdraw our weekly cash, since Hick had paid us his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) electric bill and Lowe's bill with cash. So I used that in place of making a deposit and withdrawal. Thursday, I was back at the drive-thru for my regular withdrawal.

WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN???

The little traffic lights on all three drive-thru lanes were RED! Was the bank closed for Halloween? Was there some other holiday? The venetian blinds (it's an old bank) on the window where the drive-thru tellers look out were down. I pulled into my favorite drive-thru lane, just to get a look at that window and make sure. Besides, that was the only way I could get out of the parking lot. Huh. There was a printout taped to the tube where the cannister comes out. 

EFFECTIVE OCTOBER 28, 2024, NEW HOURS WILL BE:

LOBBY - 8:00 TO 5:00

DRIVE THROUGH - CLOSED

Nooooo! If I wanted to go into the lobby every week, I would go into the lobby! I need my drive-thru! I looped around down the alley, and back to the front parking lot. At least they have two handicap spaces, and a concrete ramp with a rail. 

I hobbled along to the door. A man had come in the wrong one-way direction into the lot, and was getting out of his car. Another car came in the wrong way, and backed into a space. The walking man held the door open for me. I thanked him, and told him to go ahead, since he was ahead of me anyway.

The lobby is small. Only one of the four slots was open. A young black man with shoulder-length braids, in a dark green button-up shirt, was working it, the far left slot. Green is my favorite color! He looked very banky. I have not seen him here before.

Door-Holder was moving money from one of his accounts to the other. He was asked for ID, and presented it. I leaned against the wall by the door, not wanting to sit down in one of the six available chairs. Sometimes it's easier to stand while leaning, than to stiffen up while sitting.

Overall Man came in next. He went to sit down and wait. After about five minutes, a gal came out of the back room. I suppose she had been on her break. It was a little after 3:30. I did not recognize her, either, from my previous views through the drive-thru window. She had short mousy hair, and glasses that kept slipping down her nose. Her attire was a skirt and knit top. Suitable for a bank teller, but a bit frumpy.

I was also depositing a check from my investment company, since there is a certain amount (RMD) that I have to take out every year. I put the check and deposit slip on the counter, along with a withdrawal slip (specifically asking for twenties), and my ID. I don't put both transactions on the same slip, because sometimes they want to say they're holding such a check for 10 days, and don't want to give a withdrawal, even though there is plenty of other money in our account. RULES! They don't always make sense.

Anyhoo... Mousey was working on my deposit. Green Shirt had finished with Door-Holder, and called Overall Man to the counter. He was wanting to withdraw $500, but said he had just come in because the ATM on the back wall by the drive-thru would not give him money. Green Shirt asked if he had the paper slip the ATM gave him. He did.

Mousey opened her drawer to give my cash, and was shocked to see that she didn't have enough twenties. "This never happens to me! Huh. I wonder if HE has enough."

Well. Sometimes that happens at the drive-thru. They say they have to go get it. I imagine them walking into the safe, but I suppose not every teller has access to the safe. That would be a big responsibility for someone who probably makes near minimum wage. Mousey just stood there.

"I can take other bills. They don't have to be twenties."

"Oh, you wouldn't want that. I only have tens and fives."

Well. I'll be the judge of that. I would gladly take ANY money to just get out of there. She had already given me my withdrawal receipt. Just not the cash. I suppose Mousey was waiting for a lull when she could ask Green Shirt about the twenties. Because she walked over there. He hesitated a moment.

"I'll take these right now, and I'll give you a receipt for them in a minute."

She took the bills, and went to the money-counting machine. I heard it whirring. Then she came back to my slot and counted them out in front of me.

"I haven't been here in a couple weeks, and now the drive-thru is closed! Is that ever going to re-open?"

"Yes. It's not permanent. It's just until we can get more people in here to work."

This whole NIGHTMARE had taken me 20 minutes. That's 20 minutes of standing on my knees, though I tried leaning at various angles on the wall, and later the counter. I got a sharp shooting pain above my left ample-rumpus cheek. Not sure what that was. But my point is: SOME PEOPLE NEED THE DRIVE-THRU!

I don't understand how only having the lobby open helps with short-staffing. Unless it deters some customers, and they drive away. The tellers still have to service the customers in the lobby. When the drive-thru is open, they go back and forth between counter and window. It's not like this new process is allowing them to service any more customers.

Hick's explanation was that the business customers can't put all their change and stuff in the cannister at the drive-thru. And...? How does this explain ANYTHING about closing the drive-thru? The business customers with that issue would be going into the lobby anyway!

Seriously. I would much rather sit on my ample rumpus for 20 minutes in T-Hoe's comfortable seat than stand for 20 minutes on my painful knees in the lobby. Am I missing something here?

Nose Out of Joint, Val Nearly Flattens the Bride of Satan

Thursday is my weekly errand day, and the fact that it fell on Halloween made no difference to me. Off to the bank and post office and Casey's and Country Mart. I didn't have a lot to get in Country Mart, and even considered skipping it, but they did have Hick's Diet Mountain Dew on sale until next Tuesday.

We'll begin when my nose was still in joint. I went by the deli, and got a big salad for me, as well as some cold fried chicken. I'm making pasta for Hick, which will last him three days at least. So I'm not going to cook another meal for myself. I'm not a big fan of pasta, but will eat it when there's nothing else for me.

From the deli, I crossed the aisle for nine bananas. Four long ones for Hick, five short ones for me. I ripped a bunch in half to get his, but I didn't want to leave a single banana behind from my bunch. I grabbed a box of Little Debbie Zebra Cakes for Hick. He has one every night, and I couldn't remember how many he had left. He keeps them in FRIG II, because he likes them cold. Then it was off to the soda aisle.

There were more people in the store than normal. I always get there between 3:00 and 4:00. Always just one cashier on duty. They kept announcing for somebody to come to the front to check. In fact, when I got in line behind two other customers, they called somebody up. Of course the four teenagers who had just stepped in line behind me went to the newly-opened register. The last come first, I suppose. I guess they had just gotten out of school. They each had one item. I figured they would all be paying separately. Looked like snacks. NOT eggs or TP or other shenanigan supplies for the evening.

Anyhoo... my nose started bending out of joint when the young man who is usually so nice put ALL of my items in ONE BAG! And then double-bagged it! What's the point? It was too heavy for me, and the plastic containers of salad and chicken were on top of my tender bananas! With Little Debbie jammed down on the side. I have extra bags in T-Hoe's rear, for the very purpose of re-bagging what the clueless cashiers give me. So it was not totally unexpected. But then...

Young Man Cashier asked how I was doing. Just making conversation. And I said, "I didn't expect you to be so busy today." You know, because he was the main cashier at the first register, and they kept calling others up to help.

"Reeeally??? On HALLOWEEEEENNNN?"

This is what put me off. Excuuuuuse me for being an idiot who didn't realize that Halloween afternoon was the new Black Friday! In my day, Halloween afternoon was a time to get the kids right home, get homework done, supper eaten, costumes on, and hit the road for trick-or-treating. Not a time to go to the grocery store. What last-minute items could these people possibly need? With the exception of buying shenaniganning supplies, the teens should be getting ready for a night out, and the elderlies rushing home to turn out their lights and sit, barely breathing, until time for kids to be off the streets.

I guess Young Man Cashier was just frustrated from his busy day. The people I saw were only buying normal grocery items. I suppose it being the last day of the month might have had an impact. I was thinking the main rush would be on Friday/Saturday/Sunday, the first weekend of the month.

Anyhoo... in a miniscule fit of pique, I pushed my groceries out to T-Hoe. I got into the driver's seat, and wrote down my purchase in the checkbook register. Then I started T-Hoe, and began backing out of my parking space.

What in the NOT-HEAVEN??? Literally! The Bride of Satan strode out of the pharmacy door, and angled herself across the lot right behind T-Hoe! While I was in motion! Not a straight-across path, either. She made sure to block my path for a long time, while going down the hill to the main parking lot section.

I know she was the Bride of Satan, all decked out for Halloween, because she was wearing a bright red full-length dress with ruffles, and had her jet-black wig in a style like the gals on that old TV show Here Come the Brides, with Bobby Sherman. Not that Bobby was satan or anything. It was just that style of hair.

T-Hoe is from 2008. No backup camera. The backup beeper has been broken for at least 10 years. We had it fixed at the dealer, and it worked ONE DAY. No more money down that rat hole. I guess the Bride of Satan assumed that I would magically see her in time to jam on the brakes and let her pass.

When I told Hick about it, I said, "One day, I'd really like to flatten one of those idiots, just to teach them a lesson. But I figure it would take too much time away from my scratchers to deal with the lawsuit."

Yep! Hick Is Still Tryng to Kill Me!

With my current lack-of-winning streak (that sounds so much better than losing streak), I have depleted my weekly allowance from last Thursday, and had to dip into my casino bankroll. WHAT? Just stop playing for a while? Never!

The problem is that my casino bankroll is in big bills. That's what the cash machine spits out when you cash in your ticket, which I always run up to an even number. I usually send The Pony to cash out my final ticket. If I did it myself, I might run one of those big bills back through the machine to break it down smaller. That's the price of convenience for Val. Having large currency.

Anyhoo... I don't want to be THAT PERSON in a convenience store line who uses a big bill to make a small purchase. Hick usually has a variety of currency, from his SUS2 (Storage Unit Store 2). On Wednesday morning, I asked if he had change for a hundred dollar bill. He took out his wallet, held closed with what looked like a scrunchie, and said he had five twenties.

"Okay. Do you need your hundred right now? If you do, you can get it from my regular purse. It's folded in half, and stuck in the side where I keep my keys. It's behind the white bank withdrawal slip that's sticking up."

"Nah. I don't need it right now. I'm not going through your purse."

Of all the not-respecting-boundaries shenanigans for Hick to choose to draw the line, it was THIS, when I had clearly given him both permission and directions!

Anyhoo... Hick threw the twenties on the marred coffee table in front of the long couch where he was sitting, then got up leave.

Four hours later, I picked up those twenties to put in my purse. When I sat down at HIPPIE at the kitchen table, I reached for Hick's hundred, to make sure I didn't "forget" to give it to him when he got home.

IT WAS GONE!

What in the Not-Heaven had I done with that hundred? I KNOW I put it right there in the side of my purse. I pulled out the withdrawal slip, and some note cards that I use for my grocery lists. Nope. No hundred. I sent Hick a text asking if he took it.

"Yes"

"Thanks for the heart attack."

Seriously. Could he not have hollered into the living room that he was taking that hundred on his way out the door?

I would swear that he planned this whole episode in an attempt to finally complete his life's mission of killing me. Except I am the one who set the whole thing in motion by asking for change.