Hicklogical Thinking

As I was leaving for town on Monday afternoon, Hick came barrelling down the driveway in SilverRedO. He stopped to talk while I wasted T-Hoe's gas, and blinded myself squinting into the setting sun.

"Your favorite gambling aunt left me a message on Facebook that she got a new phone. She said to send her yours and my phone numbers."

"WAIT! You didn't put them on Facebook, did you?"

"No. I messaged her like she said."

"So she got a new phone? So does she have a new phone number? Why doesn't she have our phone numbers like she always did? Our home number is in the phone book. Why doesn't she just call to ask, or leave a message on our phone?"

"I don't know. I thought for a minute it might be a scam. Like I'm always getting friend requests from people that aren't really the people they say they are, when I ask them if they sent me a friend request. But I think this is really your aunt. You should call her and ask if she sent it to me."

 

"I don't have time for that! She'll talk two hours!"

I'd had enough of this scenario, and drove on to town. Then it hit me. If Gambling Aunt got a new phone, with a new phone number... how was I supposed to call her?

I think maybe there's some vital information missing in Hick's description of the events.

He Didn't Even Lick My Hand in Thanks

We've gotten rid of all our Thanksgiving leftovers except the Oreo Cake that I made for The Pony. It's been a bone of contention. I don't like Oreo Cake, and never eat it. That cake is The Pony's favorite. He volunteered to make it for himself, since I had all the other food to prepare, but that would have been a dirty trick, to make the only working member of our household, at 79 hours per week, stand and bake his own cake. So I made it the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

Let the record show that I also bought a cheesecake selection, with 12 pieces and 6 different kinds. As The Pony quickly deduced, "We each get 4 pieces." Well. In a perfect world. Not in THIS house. I ended up with only 2 slices of cheesecake. But that's okay. I prefer the savory leftovers.

Anyhoo... on Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving, I noticed that Oreo Cake, on the counter, snug in its opaque Tupperware cake holder. It looked like half the cake was gone! I didn't bother to lift the lid, because I don't even like that cake. I figured maybe The Pony had eaten some for breakfast, before he left for work. Yet when The Pony got home, and went to have some cake, he exclaimed in horror:

"THE CAKE IS HALF GONE!"

I was on the short couch, and turned to Hick to start an emergency session of This Is the Time of Day When We Talk About the Most Recent Thing You've Done Wrong.

"Did you eat The Pony's cake??? It's half gone!"

"I had two slices."

"I bought the cheesecake for YOU! I know you had a piece of cake when I was still eating Thanksgiving dinner. Did you have MORE cake that night?"

"I told you, I didn't eat all the cake. I had two slices."

"THAT MEANS NOTHING! They could have been HUGE slices!"

"I ate two pieces, Mom. After Thanksgiving dinner, and that night."

"But you're surprised that so much cake is gone! So obviously your dad ate a lot of cake!"

That issue was not resolved. But Hick stopped eating the Oreo Cake. I know this, because he peevishly said midweek, "I ain't touched that Oreo Cake! Not since you'uns made such a big deal about it."

Oh, don't feel sorry for Hick. He's not supposed to have sweets anyway. Plus he had the cheesecake, and cookies that he bought at the auction, and mini ice cream cups, and a couple individual pecan and pumpkin pies, and a Hostess-like pumpkin fried-pie thingy in a box. 

Anyhoo... I was meaning to wash up the big containers from our turkey/noodle/pea/

mushroom dish, and some large bowls that I forget what I'd made in them. But I forgot the cake holder, because The Pony was at work. Sunday morning, I asked if he was done with the Oreo Cake.

"Yeah. I kept thinking I'd have another piece, but I was tired. It's probably too dried out on the cut sides for me now."

"Okay. Because I need to wash that container. That cake WILL mold if left too long."

"I know. Remember my first year of college, when you made me Oreo Cupcakes? I forgot all about them. Then when I was moving to my apartment in May, I found three of them left in the container. Let's just say that I scoured it!"

"You should have thrown it away!"

"But it was a metal pan! I think I later made brownies in it."

"I hope I brought those for Easter. Not Thanksgiving!"

Anyhoo... The Pony went back to his room, and I got the cake ready for the dogs. I can't just toss a piece into Juno's house, where she prefers to receive her snacks, because the cake would get pieces of cedar shavings, and twigs, and all kinds of crumbly stuff stuck to it. And Jack would be sure to flip his over on the porch boards, and make a greasy icing stain. So I put a piece for each dog on a paper plate. I didn't want to overdo it. There was still some cake left. So I put it on a paper plate, and put that on the bottom shelf of FRIG II. I figured Hick might want it. If not, the dogs could have it the next day.

The Pony saw the cake when he was standing in front of FRIG II, gathering 20 spices to make himself chicken tacos.

"Oh, I guess the cake wasn't as stale as you thought?"

"I gave it to the dogs, but I already told Dad by text that he can have that. But if YOU want it, go ahead."

"No. I don't want it."

Hick sure did! He didn't care one whit that it was DOG CAKE. After supper, he grabbed a little mini vanilla ice cream cup, and that slice of cake. Then proceeded to sit down in his recliner and eat the ice cream right out of that individual cup until it was all gone.

"Um. I think the point of having cake and ice cream is to have a little bite of each. Maybe put the ice cream ON the cake."

"That takes too long."

Even ice cream can't come between Hick and his dog cake.

Another Round of Public-Enemying For Val

Right on the heels of proclaiming my exemplary honesty and forthrightness, from the heights of my elevated equine, Val found herself in a predicament at the Backroads Save A Lot.

I wheeled up to the checkout, to be not-greeted by a surly Young Checker. She had dark hair, perhaps in her early 20s, wearing the standard red polo shirt uniform. Before I could start putting my groceries on the conveyor, a manager walked past, and handed her a list of something. 

I'm never in a hurry. I didn't mind the wait. You'd think she might have said, "Excuse me a minute, I need to look at this." But she didn't. She rang up my items and put them in the cart. Then told me the total: $62.78.

I put my debit card in the mounted card-reader. It asked if I wanted cash back. Yes. I wanted $20, to give Hick for paying his own money to buy The Pony lunch twice last week, and deliver it to him on his route. We have our standard weekly cash allowance, and an amount for incidental expenses, but I don't have an extra $20 on hand to dole out. Well. I DO, but it's locked in one of the three basement safes, and not for random spending. 

 

I'm pretty meticulous about which moneys are used for what. So Hick's replacement $20 would come out of our general checking account, but I sure wasn't driving to the bank to take it out of the ATM. So getting cash-back is the easiest way. Save A Lot allows a maximum of $25 cash back, and you must hit the button for $10, $20, or $25.

Anyhoo... I punched in $20, then entered my PIN, and when the thingy beeped and said to remove my card, I did. 

Young Checker said, "Would you like to run that again?"

NOT-HEAVEN, NO! Why do people word things that way? Just tell me I need to do it! Don't ask if I want to. Because I'm just enough of a smart-rumpus in my old age to tell you the truth!

 

Anyhoo... I said, "Why, is there a problem?"

 

"It didn't go through."

 

Huh. I didn' hear anything saying it didn't go through. No weird sound. But I guess maybe it showed something on her register that I was not PRIVY to. I put my card in again. Same scenario. $20 cash back. PIN. Remove card when prompted.

"It says Amount Exceeded."

 

"What does that even mean?"

 

"It says Amount Exceeded." 

"That can't be right. I have plenty of money in that account. Does that mean for the cash back? Since I entered it twice, and it's over the $25 limit? Or does it mean I don't have funds in my account? Because I have way over $82.78."

"I don't know. It just says Amount Exceeded."

"Well, I guess I'll have to pay cash, then. It's not what I WANT to do. But since you can't tell me what's going on..."

I'm sure the guy waiting behind me was rolling his eyes, assuming I was trying to scam my way into free groceries by using a card for a closed account.

I'm pretty sure my bank account has more money in it than that. When I balanced the checkbook with the automated bank line last month, it had five figures. I'm so confident that I have more than $82.78, I would wager my entire casino bankroll of 30 years, plus my stashed $8,600 jackpot! Not that I'm a betting woman, of course...

Anyhoo... good thing I carry a wad of cash in my shirt pocket, because I don't take my purse inside. So no checkbook, no credit card. My cash wad isn't nearly as fat as Hick's, but I always have enough to cover what I'm planning to buy. Ever since I forgot my debit card one time when shopping at Walmart years ago, and had to send The Pony trotting to the parking lot for my purse.

Anyhoo... I was NOT happy with this situation. I think I should have gotten an explanation of WHAT was causing my amount to be exceeded. Or a chance to run it through without putting in the cash back.

Now I'm worried that maybe Young Cashier was scamming me! SAYING it didn't go through, then pocketing my cash payment. Plus the $20 cash back that was on the card! I'm calling the automated bank line over the next few days, to see if that charge went through. I still have my receipt. My card worked fine at Country Mart the next day. For an amount over $82.78. And according to the bank line, our balance is still what it should be.

Funny (PECULIAR, not ha-ha) that this is very close to the amount that Hick came out ahead on his drywall transaction. Even Steven is EVEN-ing the wrong person! We are not a family package deal.

Type a Blog of Six-PENCE

Fortune and Even Steven have smiled upon Val this week. Her bounty has increased six-fold over last week, and the week before!

 

SATURDAY, November 27, I made a trip to the main post office to mail some bills. On the way, I stopped by the School-Turn Casey's for scratchers. Fate put me there at that day and time. Oh, my scratchers didn't win. But I saw THREE PENNIES scattered across the floor! Too far apart to photograph, but close enough to show my ample rumpus when picking them up.

I posed them back in T-Hoe, on the velvety lining of my glasses case:

 

 

I don't remember how they were situated, but I have a 1996, 2019, and 1983. They're all different versions of Honest Abe! 

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TUESDAY, November 30, found me back in the liquor store. They've changed their rug! You can't see it in my photo, but it's just a plain black rug, not the yellow stained one. Still got their clean-pee products displayed, though!

 

I know it's not centered. BLOGGER was having issues with uploading. So I had to copy and paste, and these vertical pics don't like to be edited into place. Whoopsie! Two hours of manual copying and pasting and resizing, and two crashes later, and it's BACK! Working normally.

 

It was a heads-up 1983. My phone camera preferred to focus on that new rug!

On the way back to T-Hoe, another penny had flung itself into my path:

 

Can't get any more in a path than that!

 

 

It was a face-down 1982, on the downhill slope out of the door, almost tipping me over to pick it up, and allowing me to fly my ample rumpus high!

Back at T-Hoe, another special gift awaited!

 

It was in an almost perfect spot to be spotted as I reached for the door handle.

 

This was a face-down 2002. Glad I didn't park that back tire on him!

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The Pony found a heads-up 2019 penny on his route Friday, but I can't count the pennies of another as part of my own. He WAS delivering in the town of Backroads. I need to ask him which part of town he found it in. I'm pretty sure it was meant for The Pony. He missed his first day of work on Thursday (other than the broken-ankle 8 weeks!), with a horrendous migraine that put him in bed all day. I think his penny was a "welcome back" sign.

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That's 6 COINS this week, for 6 CENTS added to Val's Future Pennyillionaire Fortune.

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2021 RUNNING TOTAL

Penny       # 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117.
Dime         still at 12.
Nickel       still at 7.
Quarter    still at 6.

2020 TOTALS
Penny     134
Dime        25
Nickel      10
Quarter      1
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Tellin' Or Felon?

Yesterday's tale of Hick getting an $80 surprise discount on drywall has prompted a question of morality. We Thevictorians are generally honest to a fault.

 

Like when I found $10 left in the lottery machine at Country Mart, and informed the cashier, and she looked at me like I had two heads, and said she couldn't do anything. And the time I found a ticket stuck up against the front of the dispensing tray at the lottery machine, and chased after the old man who'd been ahead of me. Or when I saw a dollar on the floor at Casey's, and left it! Or the $5 bill on the ramp of the Gas Station Chicken Store, and picked it up and gave it to the clerk. And let's not forget The Pony, who found a $10 ticket laying in the lottery machine at a truckstop on the way home from the casino, and left it, because it wasn't his. 

No, Thevictorians are not grifters. We don't take things that don't belong to us. Many times, I had to remind the Walmart checkers that they'd forgotten to scan my cases of soda left in the cart. Or give back change at the fast-food drive-thru window when given too much. And that one time I drove two miles back to Casey's because they had given me $15 too much back after my scratcher transaction.

Hick's situation is a bit different. He'd already left the store with his stack of drywall before he noticed their error in billing. I suppose he COULD drive the 20 miles back to the store, wait in line at the service desk, present his receipt and tell his tale of being charged too little for a specific number of blueboard pieces rather than drywall pieces, and suggest that they investigate and re-charge our credit card. 

I'm not sure how that would work. If they have to go through register tapes or logs, and maybe void that transaction. I don't see how they could charge Hick for phantom merchandise, with only his word for it. Obviously, the register would show what they THOUGHT was on Hick's cart, thus the price they actually charged him. I'm thinking that whoever was in charge of handling this matter would NOT be pleased that Hick had returned to be honest. You know how people are these days about doing anything EXTRA for their job.

Besides, at what point do we as customers draw the line at doing the employee's job for them? Surely they have training in how to ring up merchandise. Like Walmart checkers have to look under the cart (my sodas were IN the cart!) so they don't miss anything. If I catch a mistake right there while I'm making the transaction, I always tell them. But I'm really not required to.

Anyhoo... it's not like Hick was out throwing bricks through the window and loading up $1999 worth of merchandise to steal. An employee rang up his order wrong, and he didn't notice until he unloaded the merchandise at Pony House.

 

Is there a monetary amount at which The High Horse Brigade begins to look down their out-of-joint noses at whether an employee's mistake should be corrected by the customer? A time limit? A geographic distance?

Like Tammy Wynette, I stand by my man. I am right now imagining Hick doing the Nixon "I am not a crook!"

Hick Hits the Wall(s)

Hick's latest Pony House project has been drywall. The Master Bath and the Master Bedroom are nearing wall completion. Hick has two helpers. His old man buddy, and a mechanical contraption called a drywall lift. He borrowed it from the Son of This Guy, the one who gave him the doors.

 

That's the drywall lift contraption. Makes hanging drywall on the ceiling MUCH easier than standing on a ladder, or those weird stilts. This is the Master Bathroom. There's the walk-in closet. Its innards will be wood walls, not drywall. All other walls are done except the window area over where the toilet will be. Some cutting-to-fit is needed there. This picture was taken standing in the door from the Master Bedroom. The shower will be where that stepladder is.

 

Here's the opposite view, standing by the closet, looking towards the door to the Master Bedroom. Yeah. It's hard to tell what we're admiring here, in such a CLOSE-UP for Hick. The shower goes where that yellow measuring thingy is, and the vanity and sink will be under that switch by the door. Yes, Hick now calls this bathroom drywall BLUEBOARD instead of greenboard! I think he was messing with me that one time. More on the blueboard later...

 

Here's that doorway again, standing in the Master Bedroom door to the living room, and looking at the Master Bathroom door. It's that area where Hick expanded the bedroom, and lowered the ceiling.

 

That's the Master Bedroom wall by the door to the living room. Hick needs to pull some wire, and get all the plumbing fittings done before he can completely finish up on that wall adjoining the Master Bathroom.

Since the weather has been sunny and temps in the 50s and 60s, Hick has used the opportunity to drive over to Bill-Paying Town to Lowe's and Menard's, and get his drywall so he can haul it back in SilverRedO without risk of getting it wet. 

 

He pays by credit card, then when the bill comes, I am responsible for transferring funds to pay it, out of the account we used for Pony House renovations. Hick throws the actual receipts on the kitchen counter for me when he remembers, so I can organize them for our records. Wednesday, I mentioned to Hick that I did not yet have the receipt for the drywall. 

"Oh. It's in my billfold. I'll put it in there. You know, Lowe's messed up when I bought my drywall. That blueboard is $17-something a sheet. And the drywall is $9-something. They charged me the drywall price for all of it!"

"So you got it cheaper?"

"Yeah. At least $80 cheaper. I didn't know until I unloaded it at the house, and checked my receipt to see if I had everything. I thought about going back to tell them. But I'd already brought it home. So I doubt I do. It's not my fault. If I'd noticed it right there, I'd a-told them. I guess they was only looking at the drywall on top, and not the blueboard about three sheets down."

What do we know about Hick? Somehow, he attracts the bargains...

Standard Photo Composition By Hick

Hick sent me a picture on Tuesday. The subject was:

Saw this flying by locker you have to blow up to ser

 

 

No, he's not talking about the port-a-potty. They don't fly! There's a long row of more storage lockers. A telephone tower. And some tiny dot in the sky almost dead-center in the photo. I blew it up so you could get a better look.

 

No, it's not the Backroads version of Red Dawn. The Russians aren't parachuting in to claim Backroads as their territory. It's one of those parachute contraptions with a seat and a big fan, that the parachutist can "drive" wherever he wants. I've seen it much closer, years ago, flying over the sheep field.

It looks like Hick just lifted up his phone in the general direction, and took a picture. Typical framing style for Hick. Tiny subject in the middle, a lot of scenery all around.