The Price of Being Nice is Precisely 22 Minutes and a Return Trip on Complaining Knees

No good deed goes unpunished. Val knows that. She did NOT need a reminder from the Universe on Thursday.

I went in the Sis-Town Casey's to pre-pay for T-Hoe's gas, and buy some scratchers. I waited my turn in line. Only one checker was working. She's one of my favorites. Always polite and cheery. When it was my turn, I told her how much gas I wanted, on Pump 5, and began to name my scratchers by the number on the case.

Checker was distracted by another worker wandering behind her as she entered in my gas pay. Checker relayed that she had taken the hair clip off the drop slot where they feed their big bills. Apparently it had been jammed with a stuck twenty. 

As Checker was tearing off my tickets, Other Worker knelt down beside her, fishing out that mangled twenty, and said, "This will have to be given out."

Dang it! I was supposed to get back $20 in change. That's how I had calculated it, after deciding how much gas I wanted to give Hungry Hungry T-Hoe's 26-gallon tank, and which scratchers I desired. So now I would be getting that torn twenty that's no good for lottery machines or slot machines!

Anyhoo... Checker waved my scratchers in front of their scanner, laying them aside, and then took the $100 bill that I gave her. She held it up to make sure the see-through thread ran through it, and then stuck it in the slot that had previously been jammed. She gave me back the mangled $20 in change, AND ALSO A $5 BILL!

"I don't want to cheat you, but I don't think I'm supposed to get this five back. I should only be getting twenty."

Checker went through the receipt. Thumbed through the tickets. And said that it was right. I disagreed. I counted out the ticket amount, and added the gas. It came to $80. Checker still said no. And got out a pencil, saying "Let's do this the old-fashioned way." She showed me her calculations, and talked me through them. I still disagreed. I showed her my counting with the tickets. She compared them to her pencil list.

Actually, Checker could have solved her problem initially by counting how many tickets she rang up. That's usually what the checkers do if something seems off. I pointed out that she had not counted my $5 crossword ticket. 

OH! The lightbulb went on over her head. I'm not faulting her. She was interrupted a couple times by Other Worker, who kept trying to help, which only muddied the waters. And there was a line waiting, which finally Other Worker started to serve.

Checker voided the transaction, but it said NO TRANSACTION FOUND. I don't know how that happened. Anyhoo... she got it all rung up again, and took back the $5 bill. And apologized.

"That's okay. Now is my gas going to pump? Because it's been a while since you put in my pre-pay, and one time I went to the bathroom before going out to pump, and it had expired, and I had to walk all the way back in." 

Clearly they can see that Val is not one who is wont to do extra walking!  I take my cane to the casino, but not to the convenience store. I can hobble in and out. But I'm not capable of a marathon.

"Oh, yes. I just put it in again. It's fine."

Then I did the walk of shame, past the line I had held up for so long, even though it was no fault of my own. Unless you count NOT TAKING $5 THAT DIDN'T BELONG TO ME.

Back at T-Hoe, the pump was not reset. It would not dispense the gas I had just paid for. So I had to walk back inside. I was glad that Casey's does not sell rotten tomatoes! The line was restless. Other Checker saw me first, and said, "Now what?" Not in a mocking or hateful way, but in kind of a smug way to show Checker that SHE would never have had such a problem. 

Before Other Checker could solve my issue, Checker saw me and said, "Now it should work. I just did it again."

Back across the parking lot to T-Hoe waiting patiently by Pump 5. Which DID work this time.

I don't set out to be THAT PERSON who holds up a line. But in case you were born under a rock and have been living in the cabbage patch... lottery is tightly regulated by the government, just like its cousins ALCOHOL and FIREARMS. 

At the time, I was only concerned about Checker's register coming up $5 short. It wouldn't have, because she didn't ring up the $5 scratcher. However... the lottery count would have been off. No record of that ticket. It would have been like somebody (possibly an employee!) stole it. 

I really was doing her a favor. Not sure she sees it that way, but I won't hesitate to get in her line again. Unsmugly, even. Meanwhile, I've got a mangled $20 bill to pass off to Hick. His people don't mind. A little tape won't hinder it from passing hand-to-hand.

19 Days Late and $10 Short

Hick has been forgetful lately. I suppose it's a factor of sitting home with nothing to do after his back surgery, and all the days running together. He has missed a couple of appointments, like a six-month eye doctor appointment he thought was the next day, even though he had it in his phone. Then he showed up a day early for a different appointment with the doctor who put the zapper thingy in his back.

A couple months ago, Hick got a letter from a classmate who is organizing their class reunion. He always works with her in the planning, and had some duties in procuring a keychain momento, and some lanyards, and a cake. The reunion is in June. So he still has time for the cake and the lanyards. He already has the keychains. However...

The letter came with an enclosed stamped envelope for mailing in the attendance fee of $10. Hick said not to worry about it, that he would give her the money in person when they had a meeting to discuss the reunion. She lives in the city now, but was coming down for a little committee meeting. Their class is so small, I think half of them are on the committee!

Anyhoo... the meeting was scheduled for the day that Hick had to drive himself to the surgeon's office to see about pain relief for his hips. So they rescheduled the meeting for Thursday of this week. Except it was actually on MONDAY! Hick was in the middle of doing something else, but showed up for the last half of the meeting after she called and asked where he was.

Of course Hick forgot to pay his $10 fee for the reunion.

"Don't worry. She knows I'm coming. I'll get it to her."

"Do you just want me to mail it?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

I got out the envelope last night, and saw that it's not simply a matter of mailing the fee. There's a 3-page form about current activities and what Hick has been up to for the past several years. Plus a recent photo should be included. The RETURN BY date was March 25th.

Hick says he will fill out his papers tonight, and I can mail it tomorrow. He will text her a picture. We'll see if he remembers...

Signs of Improvement For the Hickster

Hick seems to be feeling better. The sighing has stopped. He mostly sleeps through the night. If he has to get up for the bathroom, he goes right back to bed, rather than lurching through the house groaning, trying assorted chairs like he's the understudy for Goldilocks. 

Most mornings he awakes without pain. Then after a shower, says it's around a 2/10. He has been taking the acetaminophen sparingly, not consuming his full 3000 mg per day quota. If he spends a long time at his SUS2 (Storage Unit Store 2), Hick is achy when he comes home. He will take a hot shower, and apply Arthritis-Strength Hempvana to his hips. Unlike the original strength, which is odorless, this version smells like BenGay and Icy Hot had a baby. A really stinky baby, whose scent is strong enough to be used as a bioweapon. When Hick walks through the living room, my eyes water worse than a recalcitrant ne'er-do-well on the receiving end of pepper spray. 

Tuesday, Hick had Old Buddy come out to replace the belt on the lawnmower. Hick mowed the whole front yard/field. He seemed to feel no ill effects. He also had physical therapy on Monday, which did not interrupt Monday night's sleep.

Baby steps, people. Baby steps. The surgeon said it takes a long time for the bone grafts to grow together.

Another Missed Opportunity

I had a chance to be helpful last week, but that train left the station before I could get on board.

It was in the Gas Station Chicken Store. A kid was standing off to the side of the register. He looked like a Goth throwback. Tall and thin, wearing a black hoodie (hood up), with black stringy bangs drooping over his forehead. I assume that he had a respectable boy-mullet extending past his collar under the hood.

I think Hoodie was trying to pre-pay for gas. He had no other items on the counter. The cashier was telling him the card reader wasn't taking his payment. I think it was $20.

"Oh. Uh. Just a minute. I need to check my bank."

Hoodie went down the aisle by the soda fountain, fiddling with his phone, before I could offer any assistance. I could have handed him a twenty from my lottery pocket, and not thought twice about it. Though I WAS thinking twice, since I didn't say it right away. I didn't want to offend Hoodie. Maybe he really was having issues with his bank. Then again, maybe he was a teenager who didn't keep close tabs on his balance. Or maybe a recent deposit had not yet been credited. 

Anyhoo... I was about to ask the cashier what was going on, but another customer came in and stood behind me. So I didn't want to get the cashier in trouble for talking about another customer, or embarrass Hoodie by voicing my suspicions in front of that customer. Then another one came in, and I didn't want to hold up the line.

As I was leaving, Hoodie stepped back up, and said, "When you're ready, we'll try 15."

Then I felt worse. It's nothing to me to hand a stranger a twenty, no questions asked. I'd hope somebody would do that for my own boys if they needed it. Oh, I'll claw and scratch for a few cents, if I think I have been cheated at the register. But forking over un-asked-for cash to somebody who might need it is not an issue for Val.

The Pony Is Getting Acclimated for Summer

We've had some rain and wind lately, but spring is definitely here. The Pony sent me a text last week. With a picture:

"The season of tanlines and sunburns begins anew."

The Pony tans like Hick, rather than freckling like me. It is perhaps more noticeable because The Pony keeps his fetlocks shorn. So there's no shade from his fur to hinder a tan. As far as I know, The Pony has not followed in his father's hoofsteps and had a pedicure.

I'm just happy this was not a broken-ankle picture!

Prove To Me That The Universe Does Not Conspire Against Val

Prove it, I say!

If The Universe did not conspire against Val, would the following scenario have happened?

Tuesday, we went to our favorite local casino. The menu at the grill where we always have lunch has changed. And not for the better. They have fewer selections. I chose the Fried Chicken Sandwich combo, which The Pony has consumed on a couple of occasions, and declared delicious. I had them leave off their special sauce, which is a bit spicy, according to The Pony. Otherwise, our order was the same. Yet when our sandwiches arrived, there was a glaring discrepancy.

The Pony's sandwich, as evidenced by his blue nail polish, was plump and juicy. While mine was thinner than the shoe leather on a black-and-white-movie's hobo. How fair is THAT?

Here's a picture of my cardboard "plate."

The Pony gave me his pickles, and I gave him my sauce, which they served on the side. He used it for dipping his fries.

Here's The Pony's cardboard "plate."

At least I got more fries than The Pony! Though that is hardly a consolation for having chicken leather instead of a plump juicy breast filet... And yes, I shared my fries with him.

In a perfect world, or even a FAIR world, Val would get the same chicken portion as The Pony.

Penny-Finding Is Not For the Faint-of-Heart

Ya can't find 'em all! Obviously, Val's penny-hunting skill is on the fritz. Only one single solitary cent was captured this week. But not for a lack of trying...

THURSDAY, April 6, I was relieved to see my old friend, that dirty dirty rug at the Liquor Store. He did not disappoint.

That coin was waiting there just for me. So I photographed and harvested the meager crop.

It was a face-down 2003 penny, charming my phone camera into taking an in-focus picture on this filthy rug.

But wait! On my way out the door, I spied another treat.

Chillin' beside the freezer, next to the charcoal and lighter fluid. I got my photos.

But something seemed amiss! That was no penny!!! I put it in my pocket anyway. You know, so as not to appear a fool for photographing it. Turns out it was an old Milk Dud. Which I tossed out the window at the Gas Station Chicken Store.

Told you my penny-finding skill was on the fritz!

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That's 1 COIN this week, for 1 CENT towards Val's Future Pennyillionaire Fortune!

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2023 RUNNING TOTAL

Penny           # 39.

Dime             still at 8

Nickel           still at 1

Quarter        still at 0

2022 FINAL TOTALS

Penny           124
Dime              21
Nickel              7
Quarter             9

2021 FINAL TOTALS

Penny        124
Dime           14
Nickel           7
Quarter         6

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