Val Translates Hicklish

I was sitting on the parking lot of Country Mart, writing in the checkbook, when I got a text from Hick, who I assumed was at his Storage Unit Store, where I'd seen his truck as I passed by around 1:30 on Sunday. Of course I read Hick's text! I wouldn't ignore something like that. Reading it is one thing. Understanding it is another.

"What is on his way out there Val Buddy is on his way out he's going to look at the side beside sitting over by the barn so if you see a silver truck over there as he is"

"Makes no sense, but a silver truck. Ok."

I presumed (it doesn't pay to ASSume with Hick) that somebody in a silver truck might be waiting for Hick by the BARn. And he was tipping me off not to go all vigilante and do something crazy like take a picture of his license plate. By the time I got to Dairy Queen, Hick had clarified a bit more, with a second text.

"He's looking at the old side by side ill be there pretty soon."

Okay. That made sense. Now I wouldn't accuse a Friend of Hick of casing the joint to come back later and steal our superfluous side-by-side. Which is like the Gator, only red, and an off-brand.

Had I been sending that text myself, I would have worded it differently.

"Buddy is on his way to our homestead. He's going to look at the Scout to see if he wants to purchase it as-is with the dead battery and carburetor problem. He will be traveling in a silver pickup truck, which you may see parked near the BARn, having left tracks through the field. Should you observe a strange fellow of whom you are not familiar, it is he."

Nah. I wouldn't text that. I hate to text.

More Easy Money, Hick and Val Versions

Hick continues to accumulate wealth without doing much of anything. Friday he got an offer he couldn't refuse. Not from Back Creek Neighbor Bev, and not the meat of a Ponytail Guy. This offer was from my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel. 

Mabel is making plans for new garage doors. THREE new garage doors. And what better way to dispose of the OLD garage doors than to offer them to Hick? It sure beats paying the installers to haul them away. So Hick is in line to acquire, free of charge, three 8x10 garage doors, insulated, with a wood finish, slightly faded.

I know Hick can make money on these garage doors by advertising them for free on Buy/Sell/Trade. Something tells me he will likely keep at least one for himself. He hasn't said as much, but I've become a pretty good judge of charHICKter. It will be 4 or 5 weeks until Hick can take possession of his new used garage doors. He's in no hurry.

I also came upon some easy money on Friday.

That's another $100 winner on a $30 ticket. So it won back double-and-a-third of what it cost me. I will invest in another one this week. The payoff lately is better than that of the $5 scratchers, which were giving me NOTHING back! I'm sure the worm will turn, and I'll go back to the $5 tickets soon enough. Meaning as soon as I use up the bankroll I've accumulated on the winnings from the $30 tickets. Except for the $500 winner. That's put away, no playing back. No streak lasts forever, be it winning or losing.

If This Week Was an Anniversary for Val's PENNYillionaire Quest, It Would Be the Silver Anniversary

Once again, too late for the deadline, a rightful coin found its way into Val's shirt pocket. On SATURDAY, September 5, I spotted it on the sidewalk in front of the Backroads Casey's.

There it was, directly in my path, practically whimpering with outstretched arms, begging me to pick it up! That little dime is safe with me now. Don't worry that I missed a coin down on the parking area. That was a silver foil circle that covers the top of the little 5-hour energy drinks. They've fooled me before.

It was a heads-up 1995, totally unexpected.
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THURSDAY, September 10, I had a horrific moment in the Sis-Town Casey's when I turned after paying for T-Hoe's weekly gas, and saw A PENNY where there had been no penny before. All the while I'd been waiting, behind two lines and four people, there had been no penny. I guess someone had been standing on it, or dropped it as they left. 

I COULD NOT HARVEST this one! To do so would have meant putting my Valedictorian head inches away from a lady's butt. I was not willing to risk that! First of all, I might have been pelted with pizza slices and sandwiches for ample-rumpusing the lunch crowd waiting behind me. Secondly, that lady might have farted, which I hear can spread the VIRUS, and her butt was not wearing a mask. So I left there a bit saddened.

Don't you worry about penniless Val. I proceeded to mail Genius's weekly letter, and then on to the School-Turn Casey's for scratchers. While chatting with a former student who was clerking, I spied A DIME!

Oh, yes. You must have a practiced eye to detect some of these little camouflage-y coins! Like this one hiding behind the pistachios.

It was a face-down 2005. My second dime this week! It took a little sting off the pain of missing out on the ladybutt penny!
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FRIDAY, September 11, The Pony and I went to pick up Little Caesar's for our lupper (lunch-supper). Hick was 2.5 hours out of town at a funeral for his cousin, so this short-temper cook had the night off! They don't sell scratchers at Little Caesar's, so I went by the Backroads Casey's on our way back home. I was obviously meant to be there at that time.

I barely saw this sneaky little trickster, hiding behind the four feet of a lady with a tween daughter buying two 32 oz fountain drinks. It was shoved way against the wall under the gum rack. I had to use a winning scratcher to drag it out where I could nab it! Lots of ample-rumpusing was involved. I hope that snippy little manager girl was watching on her surveillance camera!

It was a face-down 2000 dime. Nothing wrong with the gum rack! It was just hiding my dime.

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That's 3 COINS this week, all DIMES, to add 30 CENTS to Val's Future Pennyillionaire Fortune.

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2020 RUNNING TOTAL

Penny       still at 106.
Dime         # 16, 17, 18.
Nickel       still at 9.
Quarter    still at 1.

2019 TOTALS
Penny     134
Dime        20
Nickel        8
Quarter      5
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Hick: Storage Unit Magnate, Easy-Money Magnet

I'm surprised people don't just throw money at Hick all willy-nilly as he walks down the street. Or drives along in SilverRedO, kind of like a reverse parade, rather than Hick tossing candy to the crowd lining the parade route.

Don't get me wrong. I'm a fairly lucky person. The untaxed remains of my $8,600 slot win, cooling its bills in (one of) our safe(s), would agree. So this is not a case of Val harvesting sour grapes to fling at Hick, and have them rain down on his money-magnet parade.

Hick seems to make money without any investment of money, time, or effort!

Back Creek Neighbor Bev sent him a text while he was at his Storage Unit Store. She said, "I'm giving you my dining room table and chairs. I need it out of here. Come get it as soon as you can. I need it out of the way."

Never mind that Hick wasn't sure he wanted Bev's dining room set. He told me,

"I don't know. There's no room for it at my Store. I don't really have room for it over in the Freight Container Garage. I could put it on Buy/Sell/Trade, I guess. But they go for hardly nothin'."

Well. Hick mentioned it to one of his Storage Unit buddies, who said HE would like to have it. Hick said he could have it for $50, and he needed to go get it. Hick said the buddy could follow him, and he's show the way, and introduce him to Bev. She's kind of unwelcoming to anybody but Hick coming in her house or on her property.

They went on Sunday, after closing up their Units. Don't you worry about them disturbing Bev's sabbath. She's a 7th Day Adventist. Sunday is just another workday for her.

Anyhoo... Hick and The Buddy went inside. That's when The Buddy almost got Hick in trouble. He asked Bev, "So is now when I pay you the fifty dollars?"

Hick said, "Oh, no. You don't owe her anything!" When they got outside, he collected his $50 from The Buddy. Who has a bigger Unit than Hick, heh, heh, and will display the dining room set this weekend.

So Hick made $50, without any effort, by driving a mile past our house to show The Buddy 'his' table.

Nothing Beats the Meat of a Ponytail Guy (heh, heh)

Hick is a great provider! Let me sing his praises. Harumph. Arghh. Mah meh mee moe moo, mah meh mee moe moo, mah meh mee moe moo. Excuse me. That’s just me limbering up my vocal cords

Friday, Hick went to town with no intention of hunting. Nor gathering. And returned with 20 pounds of MEAT! I know I pooh-poohed his offer of AUCTION MEAT a few years ago. But Hick is not a man who takes DON’T EVER BRING THAT AUCTION MEAT IN MY HOUSE for an answer! Technically… this isn’t auction meat. It’s STORAGE UNIT MEAT!

Hick got to his Unit early, around 7:30. The early bird catches the dollar profit, you know!

"I was sittin' there, and my buddy came along with two 10-lb bags of meat!"

"Which buddy?"

"The one with the ponytail, from the next county up. He said his wife works at the food pantry, and they were giving it away to anybody who would take it. Like when Back Creek Neighbor Bev made a donation down here, and they made her take that box of carrots and potatoes and oranges and apples. He actually brought me some the week before, but I didn't have nowhere to keep it. So I gave it to my buddy up at the lockers. The one who has a store in town, and a freezer. He took it over to the store."

"How long did you have it this time?"

"I brought it out here about 10:30, and put it in [The Original FRIG] over in the BARn."

"So you had frozen meat sitting around for 3 hours?"

"No. No. I had my buddy put it in a cooler, and then I brought it out here at 9:30. So it was still frozen."

"I doubt that. It was 94 degrees. And your details keep changing."

"Anyway, we have 20 pounds of free meat."

"What KIND of meat?"

"I don't know. I didn't look at it. I think it's Chicken Fingers, and Sausage Patties. Tell me when you want to cook it, and I'll bring some over."

Five days later, I told Hick to BRING IT! I laid out some old Chinese tupperware, from when our carryout place used to put dinners in rectangular plastic with clear lids.

Turns out it was Chicken Patties and Sausage Links. Fully cooked. Slightly thawed before Hick got them into The Original FRIG's freezer.

Hick and I ate some sausage on Tuesday night. They were delicious! So far, we're both still kickin'. The Pony took himself to Steak N Shake that afternoon, so he did not partake. He should be able to call the coroner if Hick and I succumb to the Storage Unit Meat.

Squatters Gonna Squat

When we went to the casino last Thursday, Hick got a message from another enclave resident on the Facebook page. He specifically addressed Hick, informing him that he'd seen a white Dodge sedan parked on our other land. The 10 acres on the other gravel road, where HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) had lived with his family for a couple years.

When we originally bought the property back before The Pony was born, it had a metal shed, a well, and an electrical pole. Three or four years ago, we told HOS he could put a trailer on the land. The electricity was hooked up, and the well. HOS built a shed (like father, like son) that he called his "laundry room," where he put his washer and dryer.

Once HOS moved to town to the $5,000 house that he and Hick renovated, Hick called his buddy who works for the electric company (Hick has a contact in every walk of life), and told him to disconnect the electricity. I mean, the service had been officially shut off, but Hick wanted the ability to connect gone. He didn't want anybody calling and starting electrical service there. It's OUR land, by cracky!

Electric Buddy asked was Hick sure? To have the whole service entrance removed? And Hick said yes, that's what he wanted. Hick took his own metally connecty stuff off the pole (I don't know much about utilities) and brought them home, to use some day on the Freight Container Garage.

Anyhoo... back to the white Dodge sedan. Another enclave resident said he saw it parked overnight, and that it had a fan sitting on the hood of the car. Hick drove up there, but the white Dodge sedan was gone. He said it sounded familiar, like maybe he'd seen it out here before.

"I looked around. It looks like somebody pooped and wiped their butt with a sock. I saw that the lock was pried off the door of HOS's laundry room. I stuck my head in to see if there was a cot or blankets in there, but it didn't look like anybody had been sleeping in there. The metal shed still had the lock on it, but HOS got most of the stuff he wanted out of there already. I think I've seen that white Dodge out here. Maybe next door at Shooter's house. His son is living there now that he died."

"If the people in the white Dodge are friends with Shooter's son, wouldn't they use HIS bathroom? And not poop and wipe with a sock right out in the open with a road 30 feet away, and cars driving by?"

"Maybe..."

"What's the deal with a fan on the car? There's no electric. And how could a fan help people IN the car if it's on the hood?" 

"They make fans that can plug in to the cigarette lighter. I don't know how it would help them, unless they're laying on the hood of the car. I fixed it, though! They ain't gonna be parkin' there now! I sawed down the electric pole, and drug it across the driveway with the tractor. I put a little tree there, too. They ain't gettin' that Dodge in there now."

Our across-the-road neighbor, the Dog Groomer, saw the info about the white Dodge sedan on the Facebook page.

"I saw that car out here Friday night. The man and woman in it were parked in the middle of our road, fighting. That car had been up past our house, and turned around in New Buddy's driveway. I couldn't get past them on the road, and told them they needed to move. They didn't like that at all."

"Huh. I wonder what they were doing up in HERE? This side is the dead end. Maybe there were looking for another place to squat. Maybe they have something to do with the mail theft."

"Maybe."

Hick has been driving up there to check every day. It's only about a mile. He takes the Gator, and the dogs run along. They love the Gator excursions! He hasn't seen any sign of the car or activity on the property.

Meanwhile, a couple days ago, the lady whose house got broken into, and had the creeper in the back yard, said she saw that white Dodge sedan over on that section of the enclave, by the back entrance. If it was a resident, or somebody's regular guest, they would say so on the Facebook.

Somebody needs to get a picture, because somebody needs to be questioned...

The Clap-Back

Sunday night, The Pony and I watched a DVR of that night's Big Brother show. Throughout the hour, we heard several suspicious thumps upstairs in the area of the kitchen. I'd look at The Pony, to see The Pony looking back at me.

"Yes. I heard that."

We finished the show, he on the couch, me in my OPC (Old People Chair). When it was over, I deleted the recording, and put it on Ridiculousness. It's mindless, tactless entertainment. Neither of us was planning to watch a whole show. I was on the edge of my OPC to return to my lair, and The Pony said he was going upstairs.

A commercial came on. I'm pretty sure it wasn't part of the show, because I'd seen that episode already. But I hadn't seen the commercial. I don't even know what it was for, maybe another show. It was a kid standing at the bottom of some stairs, saying, "If you came here to kill me, clap your hands..." And then there was a clap-clap from upstairs. [I found a link to a show that played it.]

I cracked up. "That was funny."

"Mom. People do stuff like that all the time to get viral videos."

"I know it wasn't real. It was just funny."

Anyhoo... I cranked my OPC forward a little more to get up. The Pony was closing his laptop and sitting upright.

"I'm going in my office. Will you turn this off when you go up?"

"Turn it off now. It will save me messing with the remote with my arms full."

I turned off the TV. Feeling a little prankish, I said,

"If you came here to kill me clap your hands..." and I clap-clapped, smirking at The Pony. Because, you know, he was headed upstairs, and we'd been hearing things.

The second I finished clapping, we both heard a THUMP upstairs in the boys' bathroom!

"Oh, CRAP!"

"Uh...yeah."

"I don't like that."

"Didn't you hear me say a while ago, 'THAT was interesting.'"

"No."

"It was while we were watching the show, and something ran along the floor here by the end of the couch. It wasn't really anything I could recognize. Just something low to the ground, moving."

"Last night when I came upstairs, I saw something like that over by your door as I was walking to the kitchen. When I turned and looked right at it, nothing was there!"

"I told you this morning, I had a dream last night about something like Jack running around in my room, but it wasn't a dog. I don't know what it was."

"Don't remind me of that NOW! Do you want me to turn the TV back on while you go upstairs?"

"No. I'm fine."

"But I'm down here! And I'm going to my dark office across the dark basement, with just this lamp."

"Do you want me to turn on the overhead light as I go up?"

"YES!"

"Okay. I'm going in the kitchen for ice and water. Just in case you hear something."

I guess the actual prank was on ME. Played by WHAT, I don't know...
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Let the previous record show that when I'd come home from town on Saturday, around 2:30 p.m., The Pony came into the kitchen, his glasses in his hand.

"I don't know why my glasses picked today to go crazy. I always lay them on that hockey stick that Dad made into a towel rack. But for some reason, while I was brushing my teeth just now, they all at once jumped into the sink! Look! The water got all over them!"

Saturday night/early Sunday, kicked back in my OPC, I'd heard three distinct THUMPS in Genius's bedroom overhead. The first at 4:15 a.m. Then at 4:20 (heh, heh), and the last at 4:37. It was when I went upstairs around 5:35 that I saw something over by The Pony's bedroom door.
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Just now (Sunday night 11:45-12:15 when I typed up this story), while I was trying to type the previous record above, my BLOGGER screen kept jumping all over the post, highlighting random sections in blue like I was going to give a link, or put it in italics. Sometimes taking out a chunk of writing so I had to hit the UNDO arrow. Almost as if something didn't want this story told...
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