I took a huge personal step. I moved to Chapin, South Carolina from my safety net of Richmond, Kentucky six months ago. I would love to say that I had this dream where a pink alligator sat down next to me on a log in the middle of an enchanted swamp and not only explained the meaning of life to me in great detail, but also that the Wade family must move to South Carolina or the space time continuum would implode and end all life in the known universe. However, that wasn't the case. Darren, (the husband), got a better job offer. (FYI I really liked my bullshit explanation better)
Why do I call Richmond, Kentucky my safety net you may ask? I have spent most of my life there. I know everything there is to know about my town. I can tell you every street and every hangout and who that giant black man is that sits on his lawn mower and rotates from major intersection to major intersection singing and waving either wearing a giant sombrero or a Santa outfit advertising various businesses, law offices, or political candidates. If you have a wreck, I can tell you which cops would show up to help, which EMT would be there to patch you up, who is going to be working at the hospital when you get there, and who the Coroner is if the occasion calls for it.
Bottom line: I love my comfortable burrow so much, that I never take risks unless pushed. As in pushed, I mean with such force it could break Earth's gravity and orbit the moon. I also had this overwhelming guilt and insane compulsion that I was required to stay and take care of my Dad and a set of grandparents. Also, keep the home fires burning. This stemmed from my brother Kenny leaving for the USMC and war, Mom leaving for Indiana and her new life, and Brett leaving for the USAF and war.
The guilt waned slightly after the Touched by an Angel moment with Dad as he told me to get my head out of my ass because he was a grown man and didn't need looking after. (He still calls me 8 times a day on average.)
My Mom, in all of her exquisite, adorable bluntness, pointed out the fact that Kenny had been gone from Kentucky since 1997, she had been living in Indiana for 7 years, and I was the only one still at base camp.
The guilt vanished completely with a Jerry Springer, confrontation, that had a dash of Dr. Phil, Oprah, 2 cups of Ripley's Believe it or Not, 4 sticks of Heartbreak Ridge, baked in the grandparents oven at 400 degrees for an hour. I would go into more detail, but that ship sailed long ago, hit an iceberg and sank off the coast of Canada. You might have seen it on Fox News.
At this point I am out of guilt and excuses. The job induced move and the grandparent relationship meltdown has actually been a great growing up tool for me. I feel brave and free for the first time, like we are finally free to live our lives. Of course, I get homesick from time to time and I have to put on my big girl panties and climb out of a depression every now and then. That will diminish with time. It has to, because we are just marking time here in South Carolina for a couple of years. We have BIG plans and BIG dreams. The next stop for this Wade family is Australia. Home of kangaroos, cricket, the Dog on the Tucker box, and the birthplace of Darren J. Wade (aka The Husband).
Showing posts with label Richmond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Richmond. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Cast of Colorful Characters (original post June 9, 2009)
Where to being? So much has happened since the last blog. I guess I could start where I left off with Tenant Smoothy from my previous blog entitled, "Oh...My Bust."
Well I didn't have to evict ole Tenant Smoothy after all. He was arrested that night after being shot. Now before you react with, *GASP* OMG, its actually quite humorous as to the circumstances in which this went down. He was selling drugs, someone tried to sell him bad drugs and he threw the guy out. Well that guy got pissed, pulled out his gun and proceeded to do a perfect imitation of the Star Wars Stormtrooper effect. If you are not familiar with that, let me explain. Its where a Stormtrooper fires a million times and hits nothing. In this case, the man fired 5 in the door, 2 in the back wall, 1 in the bedroom door, one through the windowsill, and Tenant Smoothy got hit by a ricochet in the elbow. There were others in the apartment as well and not one of them was hit. Needless to say Tenant Smoothy will be gone a very very long time. Upon hearing the news, it made me think of the flight attendant SNL skit, "Buh Bye...buh bye now....buh....bye." Tenant Smoothy is just one of the many colorful characters on this street.
Another of the colorful characters is an older lady, who rides in a motorized wheel chair, and there is nothing wrong with her....physcially. Miss P. is her name. You can see her driving around at maximum warp, cigarette in one hand, one leg crossed underneath her to make you think she has one leg, bumming and stealing anything she can get her hands on. She actually doesn't live on Turpin itself, but around the corner on another street. I have witnessed Miss P, drive her chair up to one of my tenant's apartment, jump out of her chair, run up to knock on the door, then quick as hell, dive back into her chair before he can get to the door. Everyone knows her game, but it is hilarious to watch. One afternoon, apparently Miss P. decidied that she needed a cat. So she steals one from another tenant. Now she could have gotten away with it, however, Miss P needed cat food. So instead of buying it like everyone else, she goes back to the person she stole the cat from and asks if she can have some cat food for her cat. Of course this started World War III between the two and I had to play the United Nations Diplomat to ensure peace ensued. The peace treaty consisted of, "Miss P., give the woman her PUSSY cat back and go find your own PUSSY cat. Didn't your momma ever tell you its rude to steal someone else's PUSSY cat off of their BIG deck?" So the PUSSY cat was returned to its rightful owner and this ushered in a new era of peace LOL. Well at least for about 2 hours. Unfortunately, Miss P just moved out yesterday. Coincidentally the neighbors dog is also missing.
Another main character in this insanity is the local drunk. D.R. is his name and 4 day drinking binges are his game. Anything can happen. I was chatting with one of my tenants, when all of the sudden, a house full of furniture goes flying out of the door of D. R.'s apt piece by piece. He poked his head out of the door, shaking his finger at the furniture and yelling, "Keep your damn ass out of my house and don't ever come back!" I turned to my tenant with a mixture of confusion and amusement and asked, "Who the hell is D.R. throwing out?" My tenant giggled and replied, "No one. He is completely alone. This has been going on since 7 am this morning."
I decided that watching D. R. was probably going to be worth my while, so I decided to visit with my tenant a little longer and enjoy a nice tall glass of iced tea.
My waiting paid off. D. R. then proceeded to lug all of his shit back into his house while yelling, "If I catch the son of a bitch that threw my stuff out into the road I am gonna whip his goddamm ass."
He continued by having a very intense political debate with his empty lawn chair, yelled for some "crack whore" to quit smoking crack in his bedroom, threatened to kill the next "sommmabitch" that rings his "goddamm doorbell" that doesn't exist on these apartments, and dumping gallons and gallons of water on a non existant fire in the parking lot. So from what I took from all of this was that D.R. did a bit of spring cleaning, there is a strict "no crack smoking" rule for his bedroom, the conflict in the middle east can easily be solved with 30 gallons of Heaven Hill Whiskey and an empty lawn chair, D. R. is not a big advocate for water conservation, and my tenant makes about the best damn glass of iced tea I have had in a long time.
In amongst these characters is an elderly gentleman that drives a very small, white, pickup truck, with a handicapped tag hanging from the rearview who drives up and down Turpin 30 or more times a day. We have lovingly named this man, "Mr. Pervert". The story that I have been told by "Wiki" (Wiki is what I call my tenant who has lived down there for 12 years and knows everything about everybody...see previous blog) is that a few years ago Mr. Pervert was down on the street trying to get him a piece of ass. Mr. Pervert did indeed score that night as well as the chick giving him "geriatric oral therapy" when she proceeded to rob him for everything he had. SO I guess this is kind of one of those ghost stories where it ends in...And to this day the poor man can be seen driving up and down the road looking for the hooker that stole his heart as well as his wallet.
Between the cast of characters on the street and the heat, the insanity grows in leaps and bounds. If you are ever in town, give me a buzz, bring your lawn chair and a cooler, and come on down.
Well I didn't have to evict ole Tenant Smoothy after all. He was arrested that night after being shot. Now before you react with, *GASP* OMG, its actually quite humorous as to the circumstances in which this went down. He was selling drugs, someone tried to sell him bad drugs and he threw the guy out. Well that guy got pissed, pulled out his gun and proceeded to do a perfect imitation of the Star Wars Stormtrooper effect. If you are not familiar with that, let me explain. Its where a Stormtrooper fires a million times and hits nothing. In this case, the man fired 5 in the door, 2 in the back wall, 1 in the bedroom door, one through the windowsill, and Tenant Smoothy got hit by a ricochet in the elbow. There were others in the apartment as well and not one of them was hit. Needless to say Tenant Smoothy will be gone a very very long time. Upon hearing the news, it made me think of the flight attendant SNL skit, "Buh Bye...buh bye now....buh....bye." Tenant Smoothy is just one of the many colorful characters on this street.
Another of the colorful characters is an older lady, who rides in a motorized wheel chair, and there is nothing wrong with her....physcially. Miss P. is her name. You can see her driving around at maximum warp, cigarette in one hand, one leg crossed underneath her to make you think she has one leg, bumming and stealing anything she can get her hands on. She actually doesn't live on Turpin itself, but around the corner on another street. I have witnessed Miss P, drive her chair up to one of my tenant's apartment, jump out of her chair, run up to knock on the door, then quick as hell, dive back into her chair before he can get to the door. Everyone knows her game, but it is hilarious to watch. One afternoon, apparently Miss P. decidied that she needed a cat. So she steals one from another tenant. Now she could have gotten away with it, however, Miss P needed cat food. So instead of buying it like everyone else, she goes back to the person she stole the cat from and asks if she can have some cat food for her cat. Of course this started World War III between the two and I had to play the United Nations Diplomat to ensure peace ensued. The peace treaty consisted of, "Miss P., give the woman her PUSSY cat back and go find your own PUSSY cat. Didn't your momma ever tell you its rude to steal someone else's PUSSY cat off of their BIG deck?" So the PUSSY cat was returned to its rightful owner and this ushered in a new era of peace LOL. Well at least for about 2 hours. Unfortunately, Miss P just moved out yesterday. Coincidentally the neighbors dog is also missing.
Another main character in this insanity is the local drunk. D.R. is his name and 4 day drinking binges are his game. Anything can happen. I was chatting with one of my tenants, when all of the sudden, a house full of furniture goes flying out of the door of D. R.'s apt piece by piece. He poked his head out of the door, shaking his finger at the furniture and yelling, "Keep your damn ass out of my house and don't ever come back!" I turned to my tenant with a mixture of confusion and amusement and asked, "Who the hell is D.R. throwing out?" My tenant giggled and replied, "No one. He is completely alone. This has been going on since 7 am this morning."
I decided that watching D. R. was probably going to be worth my while, so I decided to visit with my tenant a little longer and enjoy a nice tall glass of iced tea.
My waiting paid off. D. R. then proceeded to lug all of his shit back into his house while yelling, "If I catch the son of a bitch that threw my stuff out into the road I am gonna whip his goddamm ass."
He continued by having a very intense political debate with his empty lawn chair, yelled for some "crack whore" to quit smoking crack in his bedroom, threatened to kill the next "sommmabitch" that rings his "goddamm doorbell" that doesn't exist on these apartments, and dumping gallons and gallons of water on a non existant fire in the parking lot. So from what I took from all of this was that D.R. did a bit of spring cleaning, there is a strict "no crack smoking" rule for his bedroom, the conflict in the middle east can easily be solved with 30 gallons of Heaven Hill Whiskey and an empty lawn chair, D. R. is not a big advocate for water conservation, and my tenant makes about the best damn glass of iced tea I have had in a long time.
In amongst these characters is an elderly gentleman that drives a very small, white, pickup truck, with a handicapped tag hanging from the rearview who drives up and down Turpin 30 or more times a day. We have lovingly named this man, "Mr. Pervert". The story that I have been told by "Wiki" (Wiki is what I call my tenant who has lived down there for 12 years and knows everything about everybody...see previous blog) is that a few years ago Mr. Pervert was down on the street trying to get him a piece of ass. Mr. Pervert did indeed score that night as well as the chick giving him "geriatric oral therapy" when she proceeded to rob him for everything he had. SO I guess this is kind of one of those ghost stories where it ends in...And to this day the poor man can be seen driving up and down the road looking for the hooker that stole his heart as well as his wallet.
Between the cast of characters on the street and the heat, the insanity grows in leaps and bounds. If you are ever in town, give me a buzz, bring your lawn chair and a cooler, and come on down.
Oh...MY BUST (orginal post March 11, 2009)
If you have read my other blogs, then you know what I do for a living. If not, here is a short recap. I own a property management company. Some of my properties are in a very run down part of my fair city and lets just say....active. **Please note that the names of some of the individuals involved have been changed to protect...well who knows.**
The weather for the past 2 weeks have been beautiful here in Richmond, Kentucky. Plants are starting to sprout from the ground, trees are budding, birds are singing, drug dealing down on Turpin is booming. This also means that I am either calling the police or running around like a headless chicken.
Last week, which was the first of the month, I decided that I was tired of chasing down everyone for their rent. I opened a PO Box at our local UPS store so my tenants could just drop their rent off at a central location. This required me to make a flyer, explaining in great detail where, what, how, and why they need to use this box. The second step in this endeavour required me to take the flyer's and deliver them to each and every tenant on the street and answer any questions about this new procedure. While passing out said flyers all hell broke loose.
As I approached one of my buildings, I noticed a black car that was involved in an incident the week before. That incident is sooo recockulous, (because it goes beyond ridiculous) that it absolutely does not deserve to be retold. I walked up the rusty metal stairs of one of the buildings and knocked on the door of "Tenant Smoothy". The door flies open and this guy, who was not the tenant, just stares at me. I cleared my throat and explained to the gentleman who I was and that he needed to give this flyer to "Tenant Smoothy". He snatched the flyer out of my hand and slammed the door in my face. I thought...yep, here we go. Since I didn't recognize the very welcoming and warm gentleman, I decided to go down to the apartment below and ask that tenant if he knew who the other guy was. The tenant that I was asking this information has lived on the street for 12 years and knows everybody and everything. I like to call him the "The Wiki of Turpin Dr." I step into "Wiki"'s apartment for the information exchange. He had never seen that guy before. That started to worry me a bit. All of the sudden "Wiki"'s ceiling starts rumbling, the fixtures begin to shake, screaming and yelling can be heard from the apartment above. I peeked my head out of the door and looked at the balcony above. I couldn't see anything but there was a hellacious fight going on. I immediately grabbed my phone and called the good ole Police. The dispatcher asks me how many people are there and I reply, "I am assuming more than one." She then asks me if they are armed. I reply, "I am sorry, I didn't have a chance to ask them nor do I plan to. All I know is that its a big fight, probably over drugs and it would be wise for you all to get down here before someone gets shot." She tells me they will send a unit. Now I know what you are thinking, "Damn...did you have to be such a smart ass to the police?" Let me explain...if its on Turpin...they don't take it seriously. Therefore, my attitude towards the police department.
Well hell, "Tenant Smoothy" pulls up and gets out of a car. He looks upstairs, then looks at me. I yell, "WTF is goin on?" He replies, "I don't know," and takes off running up the stairs. A few minutes pass and 4 cruisers pull up. Now at this point, "Wiki" and I are giggling like 2 little kids. Two of the officers go up to the apartment where the altercation was taking place and two stayed down on the ground. I recognized one of the police officers as one who had worked with my dad before he retired from the PD. He looked at me and gave me that "Whasup" head nod. I just smiled back.
One of the younger cops, who I will call, "Officer Needstogetagrip", comes down from the apartment upstairs with the flyer snatcher, door slammer. That guy has a huge whelp on the side of his head and his chin was split. I glanced over to "Wiki" and said "DAMN." "Wiki" giggled and replied, "HA HA HA asshole got his ass whooped." The officers proceeded to do the field sobriety test. Then, "Officer Needstogetagrip" comes over to me and asks if I saw who "whooped him". I stated to the officer that I didn't see the fight...that I heard it. Then one of the kids playing in the street yells, "THERE IS SOMEONE CLIMBIN OUT OF THE WINDOW!!!" So the cops take off behind the building. I peek my head around the corner and see this black gentlemen, pants hanging down, boxers exposed, running like he was qualifying for the Drug Running Olympics. The cops are running around like Keystone Cops. Needless to say...they didn't catch him.
Then this crazy woman, who likes to stand out on the street and preach, and also calls me the right hand of Satan because I house these people, pulls up and gets out of her car and walks over to the insanity. I am thinking, "Oh this is perfect". She starts yelling some sort of religious crap and yelling at "Tenant Smoothy". Apparently crazy woman is "Tenant Smoothy's" baby's momma and heard on her police scanner that the police were at his house. She decided to come check it out.
I yelled at her to get in her car and go home. She turns around and yells, "GOD BLESS YA." Over and over as she gets in her car and leaves. "Officer Needstogetagrip" totally ignores me when I try to tell him that the black car, that was involved in the incident a week before was around right before they pulled up. So I decided to tell the older officer, the one that used to work with dad, about it.
So the crowd that has gathered stated to disperse. I walked across the street to continue handing out my flyers. A couple of the officers were still around. "Officer Needstogetagrip" approached me and said, "You need to get into your fucking car and leave." I was taken back a bit and replied, "Excuse me?" He said, "You are wandering around here meddling in every ones business and you need to leave." Well that got my blood boiling. I looked at him dead in the eye and said, "Listen, I am the fucking Property Manager. It is my business to meddle in other peoples business." Then the older officer tells him to back off.
Now I had to tell you that story to tell you this one.
"Tenant Smoothy" assured me that he dropped off his rent at the UPS store. Well my husband happens to work there as his second job. I called my husband and he tells me that no one has dropped anything off in the past 2 days. So "Tenant Smoothy" is lying to me. I decided that I need to confront him. I drove down to the properties and saw 4 cars and 5 or 6 people, including "Tenant Smoothy" standing around. I then witnessed 2 cars pull up and little white baggies and money exchange hands. So I called the police. They drove by and then kept driving. They didn't stop. Well I am not a complete idiot and I am pretty sure that I am not bulletproof. I decided that I will call my dad and ask him to come with me to confront this guy. He said that he would meet me down there. Dad pulls up and I hopped into his truck and we proceeded to head down the street. Dad asks me, "Now who is the guy that we need to confront?" All I got out was "Tenant Smoothy"'s first name and dad completed the last name. He stopped the truck and looked over at me and said, "Jessica why in the hell did you rent to him?" I said, "Dad I have to abide by the Fair Housing Laws." Dad replies, "Do you know who he is?" I shook my head. Dad said, "Jessica, I put him in prison...not jail... prison 3 times and he has "So and So"'s (another officer dad used to work with) bullet in him." I hung my head, took a deep breath and said, " Oh....my bust. I didn't know." He said, " Well now you do. We need to get him out of there."
You can't make this shit up. So luckily "Tenant Smoothy" hasn't paid his rent so I can evict him. I will let you know how that goes.
The weather for the past 2 weeks have been beautiful here in Richmond, Kentucky. Plants are starting to sprout from the ground, trees are budding, birds are singing, drug dealing down on Turpin is booming. This also means that I am either calling the police or running around like a headless chicken.
Last week, which was the first of the month, I decided that I was tired of chasing down everyone for their rent. I opened a PO Box at our local UPS store so my tenants could just drop their rent off at a central location. This required me to make a flyer, explaining in great detail where, what, how, and why they need to use this box. The second step in this endeavour required me to take the flyer's and deliver them to each and every tenant on the street and answer any questions about this new procedure. While passing out said flyers all hell broke loose.
As I approached one of my buildings, I noticed a black car that was involved in an incident the week before. That incident is sooo recockulous, (because it goes beyond ridiculous) that it absolutely does not deserve to be retold. I walked up the rusty metal stairs of one of the buildings and knocked on the door of "Tenant Smoothy". The door flies open and this guy, who was not the tenant, just stares at me. I cleared my throat and explained to the gentleman who I was and that he needed to give this flyer to "Tenant Smoothy". He snatched the flyer out of my hand and slammed the door in my face. I thought...yep, here we go. Since I didn't recognize the very welcoming and warm gentleman, I decided to go down to the apartment below and ask that tenant if he knew who the other guy was. The tenant that I was asking this information has lived on the street for 12 years and knows everybody and everything. I like to call him the "The Wiki of Turpin Dr." I step into "Wiki"'s apartment for the information exchange. He had never seen that guy before. That started to worry me a bit. All of the sudden "Wiki"'s ceiling starts rumbling, the fixtures begin to shake, screaming and yelling can be heard from the apartment above. I peeked my head out of the door and looked at the balcony above. I couldn't see anything but there was a hellacious fight going on. I immediately grabbed my phone and called the good ole Police. The dispatcher asks me how many people are there and I reply, "I am assuming more than one." She then asks me if they are armed. I reply, "I am sorry, I didn't have a chance to ask them nor do I plan to. All I know is that its a big fight, probably over drugs and it would be wise for you all to get down here before someone gets shot." She tells me they will send a unit. Now I know what you are thinking, "Damn...did you have to be such a smart ass to the police?" Let me explain...if its on Turpin...they don't take it seriously. Therefore, my attitude towards the police department.
Well hell, "Tenant Smoothy" pulls up and gets out of a car. He looks upstairs, then looks at me. I yell, "WTF is goin on?" He replies, "I don't know," and takes off running up the stairs. A few minutes pass and 4 cruisers pull up. Now at this point, "Wiki" and I are giggling like 2 little kids. Two of the officers go up to the apartment where the altercation was taking place and two stayed down on the ground. I recognized one of the police officers as one who had worked with my dad before he retired from the PD. He looked at me and gave me that "Whasup" head nod. I just smiled back.
One of the younger cops, who I will call, "Officer Needstogetagrip", comes down from the apartment upstairs with the flyer snatcher, door slammer. That guy has a huge whelp on the side of his head and his chin was split. I glanced over to "Wiki" and said "DAMN." "Wiki" giggled and replied, "HA HA HA asshole got his ass whooped." The officers proceeded to do the field sobriety test. Then, "Officer Needstogetagrip" comes over to me and asks if I saw who "whooped him". I stated to the officer that I didn't see the fight...that I heard it. Then one of the kids playing in the street yells, "THERE IS SOMEONE CLIMBIN OUT OF THE WINDOW!!!" So the cops take off behind the building. I peek my head around the corner and see this black gentlemen, pants hanging down, boxers exposed, running like he was qualifying for the Drug Running Olympics. The cops are running around like Keystone Cops. Needless to say...they didn't catch him.
Then this crazy woman, who likes to stand out on the street and preach, and also calls me the right hand of Satan because I house these people, pulls up and gets out of her car and walks over to the insanity. I am thinking, "Oh this is perfect". She starts yelling some sort of religious crap and yelling at "Tenant Smoothy". Apparently crazy woman is "Tenant Smoothy's" baby's momma and heard on her police scanner that the police were at his house. She decided to come check it out.
I yelled at her to get in her car and go home. She turns around and yells, "GOD BLESS YA." Over and over as she gets in her car and leaves. "Officer Needstogetagrip" totally ignores me when I try to tell him that the black car, that was involved in the incident a week before was around right before they pulled up. So I decided to tell the older officer, the one that used to work with dad, about it.
So the crowd that has gathered stated to disperse. I walked across the street to continue handing out my flyers. A couple of the officers were still around. "Officer Needstogetagrip" approached me and said, "You need to get into your fucking car and leave." I was taken back a bit and replied, "Excuse me?" He said, "You are wandering around here meddling in every ones business and you need to leave." Well that got my blood boiling. I looked at him dead in the eye and said, "Listen, I am the fucking Property Manager. It is my business to meddle in other peoples business." Then the older officer tells him to back off.
Now I had to tell you that story to tell you this one.
"Tenant Smoothy" assured me that he dropped off his rent at the UPS store. Well my husband happens to work there as his second job. I called my husband and he tells me that no one has dropped anything off in the past 2 days. So "Tenant Smoothy" is lying to me. I decided that I need to confront him. I drove down to the properties and saw 4 cars and 5 or 6 people, including "Tenant Smoothy" standing around. I then witnessed 2 cars pull up and little white baggies and money exchange hands. So I called the police. They drove by and then kept driving. They didn't stop. Well I am not a complete idiot and I am pretty sure that I am not bulletproof. I decided that I will call my dad and ask him to come with me to confront this guy. He said that he would meet me down there. Dad pulls up and I hopped into his truck and we proceeded to head down the street. Dad asks me, "Now who is the guy that we need to confront?" All I got out was "Tenant Smoothy"'s first name and dad completed the last name. He stopped the truck and looked over at me and said, "Jessica why in the hell did you rent to him?" I said, "Dad I have to abide by the Fair Housing Laws." Dad replies, "Do you know who he is?" I shook my head. Dad said, "Jessica, I put him in prison...not jail... prison 3 times and he has "So and So"'s (another officer dad used to work with) bullet in him." I hung my head, took a deep breath and said, " Oh....my bust. I didn't know." He said, " Well now you do. We need to get him out of there."
You can't make this shit up. So luckily "Tenant Smoothy" hasn't paid his rent so I can evict him. I will let you know how that goes.
PANDALIRIUM and Psychic Clarity!!! (orginally posted Nov. 7, 2007)
Hello all! As some of you may or may not be aware of, I am a property manager in the good ol' city of Richmond, KY. Now the properties I manage are pretty much low income and full of good people for the most part. However, every now and again you get those fruit loops that add a bit of spice in a would be ordinary day.
To start this tale off...I am having 2 apartment buildings totally redone. (Trust me, they needed it!) I receive a phone call from my dear project manager and he is in a state of total shock. He informs me that while him and a few of the other guys were in the back of the building working on 2 of the apartments, he asks one of the guys to go up front and lock up the other 2 apartments. He then hears curse word after curse word that would even make the most saltiest of sailors blush. Wondering why all the commotion, he proceeds to go to the front of the building and into the apartment where all the pandalirium is stemming from only to find a "unique" couple engaged in acts that are illegal in most states. After trying to put this horrible site out of his memory, he calls the police. Now said couple are completely trashed out of their minds and are attempting to leave at this point. So my project manager decided to try to get their demographic and personal information for the police. He proceeds to tell them that the apartment will be ready in a few weeks and if they are interested, just give him their name, social security numbers and current addresses for the application. Well frick and frack thought that was an excellent idea and divulged the information. So the police arrive and take the report. Now they call me and tell me that I need to meet them at the police station to give them names and numbers of the owners...etc. Well here I go. I am thinking the whole way down there OMFG what am I going to say to the cops. Feeling that this little story was too good to keep to myself, I immediately called my dear dear Dusty, who put me on speaker phone so Karl (her husband) could join in on the frivolity. We were laughing until we almost peed our pants.
The police tell me that in order to press charges, I need to go to the county attorney and tell them they story and give them a report number. Feeling that there are other crimes going on that could use more police attention and were more worth the tax payers dollars than this episode....I didn't go to the attorney.
My moment of psychic clarity came on this past Sunday evening. I had just gotten back from Ohio visiting relatives and was relaxing on the lounge. All of the sudden I hear numerous sirens. I mean they just kept coming. I looked to Darren and said, "I have a feeling those are for the properties." He just laughed and said nah. Well, not 15 seconds later, my mobile starts blaring. It was my maintenance people, that live at the property, informing me that one of the apartments was on fire. I just exclaimed WHAT???
Well everyone made it out ok. Apparently, one of my tenants decided to put their cigarette out in the garbage can. Not the best place for this. It caught fire. Well she comes running out on the porch screaming, so the maintenance people call 911. The first person to arrive is a police officer. He takes off up the stairs and runs at full force into the HVAC unit hanging out of the wall. He cracks his forehead on it, staggers back a couple of steps exclaiming ,"SON OF A BITCH!" He gets inside to find one of the tenants going insane and the other in the shower. He orders the insane one out of the building and yanks the other one out of the shower...completely naked out onto the porch. Well she starts screaming about how she doesn't have any clothes on and runs downstairs to another apartment to find a towel. The police officer grabs the bag and throws it outside and stomps on it. By this time 5 fire engines have shown up. All of the tenants are out in the parking lot except for one who lives underneath the apartment with the fire. She is on the phone talking to who knows telling them that she has no idea what is going on. Well needless to say all is well. No damage was done to the apartment. I wish I had a video camera up to catch that on film. It would have won an Oscar for sure.
Tune in next week children for more TALES FROM THE HOOD!!
Damn Thing (orginially posted Aug. 10,2007)
This is a tale about a man named Mike (my father) and his troubles with his towing receiver hitch.
As some of you may or may not know, my dad goes every weekend to our cabin at Lake Cumberland. Its a man made lake in southern Kentucky. In fact I believe its the 5th largest in the US. Every weekend its gets invaded by the Ohio navy or as we lovingly call them FIFOs (Fucking Idiots From Ohio).
Our tale begins one fateful day when my dad, who already owns a pontoon and a jet boat, makes the purchase of two kayaks. Him and my stepmom went kayaking in North Carolina and loved it so much they decided to purchase a couple. Dad needed to put this new type of T bar carrier for his kayaks on the back of the truck. This requires him to remove the receiver hitch on the back of the truck and install a T bar. So he is out at the house and proceeds to try to remove the one that tows the pontoon and the jet boat. He tugs and tugs...but alas the "damn thing" doesn't budge. He uses a whole can of WD-40 and beats the hell out of it with a sledge hammer. He even used a car jack...it still does not move an inch.
Dad comes walking into the office the next day...a man on a mission. He informs me of his dilemma and decides that the best course of action is to call a professional to help solve his problem. Dad calls Evans Tire, here in good ol' Richmond, KY and Mike Evans informs him that the best way to remove the receiving hitch is to take a logging chain and attach it to the hitch and a tree and drive forward and it should come right out. Now dad looks at me and says, "Yeah right...he is full of shit. I need another opinion. Who do you think I should call?" I grab the phone book and find Brockman's 4x4 (the biggest bunch of rednecks in Richmond in my opinion). I inform dad that if anyone knows how to get that "damn thing" out...they would. Dad picks up the phone and dials Brockman's. The first thing out of the mechanics mouth is, "You got a loggin chain? Hell just hook that chain up to a tree...it pulls harder than you do. It should pop that "damn thing" out of there...no problem." Well dad, having now 2 opinions from "professional rednecks" decides this is the best course of action. We proceed to drive all over town to various automotive parts shops to buy the best damn industrial strength lubracant money can buy.
All day dad goes in and out of the office to spray this lubricant on the towing hitch. Then he decides that he is ready to try and yank it out of there. Well I flip out and tell him that he needs to be careful because the last thing I want to hear is a phone call from my step mom telling me she found dad dead in the back yard with a towing hitch protruding out of his forehead. He calls me overly paranoid and off he goes. Well an hour passes and I start to worry...so I decide to ring him. He answers much to my relief and tells me, "Hell no it didn't work. I broke the logging chain in half and I think I screwed up the tree." Well at this point I am laughing my ass off. So off he goes to the lake...minus the kayaks.
Monday morning comes around and he decides to hell with the whole "damn thing". He will just have a welder cut off the "damn thing" and he will buy a whole new one. He goes out to the welding guy (who is more redneck than Brockman's and I didn't think that was possible). The guy informs him that he doesn't need a new one and he can take care of the problem. So dad says, "Hell give it a shot." A couple of hours pass and his mobile rings, "Mr. Carman...she's ready for ya. Come on out and pick her up." Off dad goes. He gets there and poof its off. He asks the guy how in the hell did he remove it. The man says (imagine a really really horrible redneck accent), "Well hell buddy. All I did was cut a hole in the back of the receiver and take a hammer and a chisel...well it scared me plum to death. I gave it a good whackin and it shot across the room faster than greased owl shit." I fall over laughing at this explanation and I thought dad was going to pee his pants he was laughing so hard. So after all of this he hooks it up and puts the kayaks on it. Off he goes to the lake today. All is well in the Carman household once again.
This is only a tiny segment in what happens in the HELP U SELL office in Richmond, KY.
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