Another RumpusHole Handicap Parker Rant

On a rare day that I managed to avoid the RumpusHole in the White F250 who takes up the lone handicap parking space at the Gas Station Chicken Store... I found someone else ensconced in that space.

It was a white sedan with no handicap plate, no handicap placard. It was NOT the lady who parks there and sits for so long. This gal was younger than me, but not young. She was parked nose-down in that space, standing by the driver's door of her car. From under the front end, I could see a pair of jeans-clad man-legs. Mind you, the car was not jacked up. Some guy had just volunteered to scoot himself on his back up under the front end. I assume it was his truck (white, ironically, but not an F250) parked behind her in the FREE AIR space.

Well. There went my plans for buying scratchers. I was not willing to brave the strong wind by parking over by the moat. Too long a distance to hobble while being buffeted with bad balance. I went to 10Box, and then to the Liquor Store across the road. When leaving the Liquor Store, I have to make a right, then left by Casey's, to come up the back alley past the rear of the Gas Station Chicken Store. 

The white sedan was still there. With a different pair of man-legs sticking out from under it. A duffle bag of supposed equipment sitting by the tire. And a white van with an obscure business name on the side. I guess that lady had called an actual repair service. It was now 45 minutes from when I'd first driven by.

Here's the thing with RumpusHoles who take up handicap parking spaces for which they have no certified need... They THINK they are entitled. They'll only be inside a minute. Surely no handicapped person will want to park there during that time. So might as well use it, you know, because they don't want to walk farther. But if their junky car won't start up again, that space is out of commission for hours. Way to go, RumpusHole!

I didn't wish for that woman to have a hefty repair bill, or be "inconvenienced" for hours. But her lack of sensitivity (and law obeyance!) seriously inconvenienced ME. I'm pretty sure she's the reason I had a bad day of losing with my substitute scratchers...

The Medium

I needed to buy stamps on my errand day Thursday. Normally, I get the young post office clerk that knows who The Pony is, and recognizes me as Pony's Mom. He's a polite young fellow, with a son about a year old. Always cheerful and helpful to all the customers in line. This time, he wasn't there.

The clerk was a woman. I always try to think of ways to describe fellow workers to The Pony, to see if he knows them, or might have an anecdote about them. This one was hard.

"Hey, I was getting stamps yesterday around 3:30, but [REDACTED] wasn't working. It was some lady. I don't really know how to describe her. She was older than you, but younger than me. Her hair wasn't really blond, or brown. Just in-between. She wasn't fat or thin. Not tall or short. She was really nice. I can't think of any way to describe her, other than MEDIUM."

"Did she have a snaggletooth?"

"Um. I don't know. I didn't really look THAT close. I was trying to decide on stamps. I knew I wanted a book of flags, but the selection of others wasn't that great. I didn't want hearts. One of them was Christmasy/wintery. I don't remember the other. So I took the Mississippi River. I've had them before, but they are pretty, and the best of those choices. So I was looking at them, not the clerk's teeth."

"That's the only way I know to describe her that would make her stand out. It was probably the one I'm thinking of. She usually fills in there for days off."

"I knew the amount for two books of stamps would be just under $30. So I was prepared. I had a twenty and a ten. She said, 'Now why did I ring that up as credit?' I said probably because nobody wants to use cash anymore, and she agreed. Now I have 80 cents in coins that I forgot to take out of my town pants that will be falling out when I unfold them to put on."

"Oh. I thought you were going to say the coins would get in the washer."

"No. I don't wash my town pants after every wearing. I'm only in them for an hour a day. Besides, they get the dried mud off the side of T-Hoe's running board when I slide out. So I'd be putting on clean pants, knowing that by the time I got out in town, they'd have dirt all over one leg again. I just dust it off when I fold them up. Still knowing that when I get out in town, they'll have dirt on one leg again. I can't see washing pants all the time, when they're not worn long, and just get dirty right back. It uses a lot of resources, and wears out the pants."

"Fair enough." Said The Pony, who wears pants all day long to walk 10-11 miles in all kinds of weather. We have different laundry needs.

Anyhoo... we both agree that I bought my stamps from a Medium.

The Pony Puzzles Mrs. HM

I got a text from The Pony on Thursday afternoon. I was not sure what to make of it.

Why was The Pony sending me this picture of mail? He has talked about moving to another state, but Utah is NOT the one. Why would I care about mail from Utah? Is it that unusual around here? I sent back a response:

"?"

"Ladybug. Or, well, the fake kind like Grandma had."

"Oh! Just hot out of the shower..no glasses . Thought it was part of the logo!"

Yes. As you can discern by my text, I am not the best without my glasses.

Clearly (to vision-corrected eyes), there is a ladybug on that piece of mail. Somebody is looking out for The Pony. The recent bad luck could have been worse.

The Planned Disappearance Of Fave

NOOOO! What is going to happen to my luck? Will Even Steven be confused? A turn of events last week is throwing me for a loop. FAVE is being relegated to different hours at the Gas Station Chicken Store! It seemed a bit sudden. Last Sunday, as I was leaving the GSCS, Fave said,

"Oh. I'll be working different hours next week! I'll be here Tuesday and Wednesday instead of Thursday and Friday."

"WHAT? I might not see you, because with this cold weather coming, I won't be getting out."

And that's how it went. We got a little snow, and temperatures dropped into the singles and teens. I sat at home on my ample rumpus, waiting for the thaw. When I went to town Friday, it was Other Cashier working. That's not a bad thing. She's nice enough to me. Just not as lucky. OC was also there on Saturday/Sunday/Monday. I thought maybe the schedule would reset itself on Thursday.

Imagine my surprise when I drove up Tuesday afternoon, and saw (yes, along with that white F250 rumpushole in the handicap space) Fave's car on the parking lot.

"Oh, you're back!"

"Well. For now. I'll be here today and Wednesday. Then again on Saturday and Sunday, but it will be in the mornings, until 2:00."

"NO! I don't think I can make it by 2:00. Is this permanent?"

"Well, according to Woman Owner, NOTHING is permanent. I hope not. Because I'm not a morning person!"

So now, I might only have half the luck I've been experiencing! I'll only be buying my scratchers from Fave two days a week, rather than four. I hope I don't have to change my routine and go to town earlier.

I'm hoping this is just temporary. They've had signs seeking a part-time cashier. Best case scenario, this is just for training purposes, and then things will get back to (my) normal.

I'm Pretty Sure Farmer H Is Trying To Kill Me AND T-Hoe

Farmer H has known for at least two weeks that T-Hoe has a burned-out headlight. He pretended not to know until I told him a week after that, even though The Pony acknowledged that Farmer H knew after our casino trip on February 11. Farmer H DID buy a new bulb, but said he was not going to change it during the frigid temperatures last week.

Yesterday as I left for town, I met Farmer H in SilverRedO on the gravel road in front of the BARn field. Of course he stopped to talk. Which meant that the 3:30 p.m. setting sun reflected off SilverRedO's rear passenger window, blinding me.

"You're killing me! I can't see a thing!"

 

"Huh. I don't know how that is."

"You can't see this reflection on my face? From the sun coming off your back window?"

"I see it." Farmer H backed up. "Is that better?"

"No! It's worse! Now there are TWO reflections! Off the window, and off the metal part between the windows."

Farmer H pulled forward again, and put down the back window. "How's that?"

"Just the one now. What do you want?"

"Nothing. I've got to get something out of the BARn."

"Okay. I'm going to town. With my one headlight..."

When I returned, Farmer H came out to the garage. He lurked in front of T-Hoe in the garage. I thought he was there to carry in a box of salsa and stuff from Save A Lot. I motioned him to get it before I opened my door. But no. He said he was there to fix T-Hoe's light, and to pop the hood.

Of course Farmer H started rassenfrassen about the light. Because T-Hoe needs some dismantling to access that headlight. AS IF T-Hoe isn't 17 years old, being a 2008 model, and Farmer H hasn't had time to familiarize himself with T-Hoe's workings.

Farmer H declared that he needed to get some tools. He carried in the Save A Lot box. Then went back to the garage to fix T-Hoe's light. But then returned to the kitchen to announce:

"I'm going to town for oil. There was none on the stick when I checked."

SWEET GUMMI MARY! Farmer H is the one in charge of the automobiles! Surely he could vaguely remember the last time he had T-Hoe's oil changed, or put some in. Now I will make sure to check the oil life for T-Hoe, rather than let him DIE of oil thirst. No gauges were showing a deficiency. Then again, T-Hoe has many problems with his electronics, so that's not saying much.

The Handicapped Can Be RumpusHoles

I still can't figure out why some people think they are entitled to park wherever they want. At the Sis-Town Casey's on Monday, a driver with handicap plates took up the whole area in front of the handicap ramp.

The car was not there when I went inside to pay for T-Hoe's gas. Nor when I came out to walk back to the gas pumps. Good thing! I would not have hesitated to put my hand on their car to assist myself in stepping down from the curb. Too bad if it would have set off their alarm.

You can't really see the diagonal yellow stripes that designate the area in front of the ramp. Maybe if you zoom in. There were NO cars parked in all these spaces when I went in and came out. That whole half of the parking area was empty. There's no excuse for this blockage! There was room for this car to park in the actual handicap space.

People piss me off!

An Update On My Little Heartbreaker

Saturday evening, Farmer H said, 

"Oh, the guy I gave Scarlett to came by my shop today."

"No! Don't tell me if it's something bad. I can't take it. I'm going to cry already."

"It ain't bad. He said he's decided to keep Scarlett. Said they like her better than their other dog. That it was a male, and kept humping Scarlett, and she'd snap at him."

"Well. She's fixed. But that's how she treated Jack, and he'd stop. So what about their other dog? What kind was it. Are they keeping them separate?"

"I don't know what kind, but he gave the other dog away, I think!"

"NO! More sadness. But I guess it's good for Scarlett. How old is the boy?"

"About five, I think."

"I hope she doesn't knock him down. Are they keeping her in the house?"

"When they're home. At night she sleeps under the porch on a heated dog mat."

"She would be wild in the house, but she was an inside dog before she came here. So she won't poop or pee inside."

"Yeah. Even when she got trapped in the garage [Hick said, as if he wasn't the one responsible for that, numerous times] she would wait until I let her out to pee."

"Does his wife work?"

"There ain't no wife. He had a girlfriend, and he has full custody of the boy. The boy goes to school. This guy and his twin brother are living there."

"Where is it? In town? Or in the country?"

"I don't know."

"YOU TOOK SCARLETT THERE TO HIM, and you don't know?"

"I actually took her to the brother's house."

"I thought you said they live together!"

"No. His brother has his own house. But they work different shifts, and he helps take care of the boy. This guy works at Lowe's, and his brother works for some kind of state agency."

"Okay. Your stories change a lot. At first you said the boy was ten when you dropped off Scarlett. Do they keep her tied up when she's outside?"

"Yeah. But he said she was gone the other day. He stood in the front yard, cussing her and calling her. And then in about five minutes she showed up."

"That's lucky! You had to drive around and look for her."

"Heh, heh! She was probably afraid she'd get taken for another ride somewhere else if she didn't come back! He said she went with his other dog down the road."

"I hope everything works out for them. Scarlett really does like her people. She'll crawl into your lap and not get up if you let her. Even that day I was sitting outside to watch the eclipse, she kept her front paws in my lap the whole time."

"Well, he seems to really like her. He could still end up giving her to his sister at the farm, but it sounds like right now he wants her at his house."

WHEW! Such good news that was. I need to call The Pony and share.