The Pony Forsakes The Mansion For Greener Pastures

He's leaving. He's really leaving! The Pony is moving out of the Mansion, and into Pony House. For the past two days, he's loaded up boxes into his Rogue. The furniture has been delivered. The water bill transferred to his name. On Saturday evening, the internet installer is coming. I'm pretty sure The Pony says his new internet will be 4000 times faster than mine.

 

I could hardly sleep Thursday night, thinking that it might be the last "normal" night that The Pony was snoozing under my (meaning FARMER H's) roof. Indeed. He told me Friday evening that he'd probably be back Saturday night, unless the internet installation took a long time. But that his plan was to be moved out Sunday, to begin living his life on his own in Pony House.

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That's a moment of blog silence while I tear up and sniffle. It's so hard to lose The Pony again. I was thrilled to have him back, safe and sound, when the OU campus shut down after the 2020 spring break, during THE VIRUS, robbing The Pony and his cronies of goodbyes and graduation. Such a relief not to worry about him being 9 hours away.

Now I can worry about him being 20 minutes away...

THIS Is What I Try To Avoid

It's ne'er-do-wells like this that drive me crazy! They're the reason I prefer to park on the left and of a parking row, or next to a handicap walkway, or off to the side where few people park. I was parked just fine when I went IN Country Mart on Wednesday. It's when I came OUT that I observed my worst nightmare:

 

That's T-Hoe on the right. You can tell by all the dirt! I had just put my groceries in T-Hoe's rear, then paused to take a picture to document this IDIOT who made sure I couldn't comfortably re-enter T-Hoe. It may LOOK wide enough, but that's not even enough room to push the cart back to the building. I had to go on the other side of the IDIOT.

 

Yeah. Plenty of room in that space. No need for the IDIOT to cheat over in case of a close-parker, due to the walkway here, for the handicap space out of frame to the left. Nobody was going to get too close to the IDIOT and prevent the door from opening. So no reason at all to park like an IDIOT.

When I got there and parked T-Hoe, a NORMAL PERSON was next to me. Still, I cheated over a bit, just in case a different car was parked there when I came out. Good thing I did! As you can see from both photos, my cheating-over was reasonable. About the amount of space where the shadow of this IDIOT's car falls. Still room on the other side of T-Hoe for the person on the right of me to get a door open all the way.

I had to hoist myself onto T-Hoe's running board with the door open only one notch. I COULD have let T-Hoe's door rest against that IDIOT's car, except it wouldn't. It automatically closed back to the first notch. Heavy doors has T-Hoe. It was really hard to grab the leg of my pants and pull my knee back enough to get my left foot in.

A less tranquil shopper might have KEYED THAT IDIOT'S CAR! But that's not Mrs. HM's style. She suffers in silence, except for rassen'-frassen under her breath once the doors are closed.

The more I think about it after the fact, it would have been grand fun to go to the service desk, and have the license number announced so the driver could come outside and move the car so I could get in!

Part 4 Of The Heat-Fueled Kentucky-Derby-Contending Trotter Mrs. HM

After leaving the Gas Station Chicken store without purchasing anything, in a fit of claustrophobia, after being line-jumped, I headed for Orb K. They sell scratchers too, you know! I got my favorite parking space next to the handicap walkway (it's not a handicap space, which is on the other side of the walkway).

I had just hobbled up the concrete ramp, and taken about three steps down the sidewalk toward the door, when all Not-Heaven broke loose. Two screaming little demons kids ran up behind me, squealing and elbowing each other to get ahead. They were around 5-6 years old. The older little girl was arm-checking the little boy. I had turned to see what was going on, lest I be crashed into and felled like a giant redwood. Sure, those kids would bounce off my ample rumpus, but their momentum would upset my equilibrium.

The sidewalk is narrow just in front of the door. There's usually stuff piled there for sale, like chunks of firewood, or a display of windshield washer fluid jugs. And there's a support pole for the little roof. Heh, heh! Those kids funneled themselves right into the impassible pole/display area. I was on the edge of the sidewalk, hoping not to be knocked off the curb. The kids' dad yelled at them to settle down and listen. Good luck with that...

Inside, I discovered that I was 9th in line! What kind of people get out on a Sunday afternoon to stand in line in a convenience store??? At least they have a corral area to funnel the customers. You have to wind through candy shelves to await your turn at the next open register. They have three registers, but only the middle and right side were manned, with woman clerks.

My turn was with the middle clerk, a young gal I'd seen there once or twice. She was polite, and scanned my two winners that totaled $23. I asked for my tickets by the numbers assigned to them on the scratcher display board. I got two $5 tickets, two $3 tickets, one $2 ticket, and two Cash4Life with Easy Match, which are $3 each. That's $24 total. I had the extra one-dollar bill in my hand to pay.

Young Gal scanned my tickets.

"I owe you $6."

"No. I owe YOU $1."

Young Gal looked confused. She spread out the tickets. I repeated what I'd asked for, explaining the dollar amounts.

"Oh. It's the Cash4Life. I didn't do the Easy Match."

"Well, I want the Easy Match." (I'm done accepting what clerks want to give me after they make a mistake!)

Young Gal set those tickets aside, and printed me two with the Easy Match option.

"Okay. Now I owe you $4."

"NO. I owe YOU $1. Look. I got two $5s, two $3s, one $2, and $6 on the Easy Match. That adds up to $24. I cashed in $23 in winners. So I owe you $1."

Young Gal looked at the tickets I had sorted out on the counter. Confusedly. She checked the register receipt. 

"OH! One of the $5s didn't scan."

"See? I saved you money!"

"I'm not used to working up here."

Seriously. Just say 'Thanks' and accept it. Don't make excuses! Young Gal was perfectly polite, but I suppose I wanted some VALidation for being honest and not ripping her off for $5 that she'd come up short on HEAVILY REGULATED LOTTERY.

 

I related the incident to The Pony and Farmer H.

 

"Dad, you wouldn't have told her she charged you too little."

 

"Maybe not. After I tell them once, I figure it's THEIR problem."

 

"That's how you get your bargains at Lowe's!"

 

"They should know how to do their job."

 

Farmer H has a point. But I'll still try to explain it, as long as they're trying, and not rude about it.

Part 3 Of The Heat-Fueled Kentucky-Derby-Contending Trotter Mrs. HM

After squeezing my knee into T-Hoe, courtesy of the Close-Parker, I drove through Farmer H's pharmacy lot and into the parking lot of the Gas Station Chicken Store. Upon entry, I saw two women standing to my left, at the little lottery station between the two bathroom doors. They were filling out the draw ticket thingies where you pick your own numbers, then hand it to the cashier to scan in to print your ticket.

I got in line behind a man, who was in line behind a woman currently paying. Another woman was on the other side, where I used to stand after procuring my delicious 44 oz Diet Coke. So I knew there were three people ahead of me.

The lady was buying a scratcher and gas and some kind of snack. She asked for a bag. While I was waiting, one of the Draw Ticket Ladies turned around. She paused a moment, then walked up in front of me to the waiting man, put her hand on his shoulder, and said,

"Well hi there!"

He looked at her kind of funny, then said, "Hello."

And SHE CONTINUED TO STAND THERE! She was obviously cutting line! I don't think they knew each other. They didn't make small talk about old times. Draw Ticket Lady DID comment on the picture taped to the plexiglass, which was an old white man with a mask under his chin.

"I wonder what his picture is up there for."

The Lady in Waiting on the other side of the line said, "Maybe he won the red ticket drawing for gas."

 

Draw Ticket Lady said, "Maybe he didn't pay for his gas." 

Man Waiting said, "You gotta pay for your gas before you pump it."

Which is not correct at the Gas Station Chicken Store. They let you pump first. They have really good cameras outside! But they say the police don't really want to chase down the gas thieves because they get released as soon as they haul them in. It's a low priority call. So the owners have said they put up the pictures, hoping somebody knows them and will tell them. So in case they just forgot to pay, they'll come in, or if they don't want the embarrassment.

Anyhoo, I didn't see anything written on that old man's picture. It was such a closeup that I couldn't tell if it was taken inside or outside. But on the wall by the door was a picture of a young black man by the gas pumps, with a note asking "Have you seen this man? Drove off without paying for gas."

 

Now I was not fourth in line, but FIFTH! Ain't that a bite in the rumpus? And to make matters worse, three men came in, one after the other, and I saw another car pulling up to the pumps. The Gas Station Chicken Store is tight quarters! We were already taking up the room by the door. Those guys had to go down the third aisle to get in line, because I was blocking the middle aisle, and the waiters in front of me were blocking the soda fountain aisle. When yet ANOTHER dude came in the door, I'd had enough.

 

"It's too crowded in here for me! I'll go somewhere else today."

 

Out the door I went, fit to be tied over that line-cutter. I took my business to Orb K. Where my day did not get any better...

 

TO BE CONTINUED...

Part 2 Of The Heat-Fueled Kentucky-Derby-Contending Trotter Mrs. HM

I went back to Country Mart at 10:46 on Tuesday morning to get my $8 refund from the unable-to-process-draw-tickets lottery machines. The little man who helped me saw me park, and came over to T-Hoe's door. He chatted with me on the way in, picked up a cart to return inside, and took me over to the service  desk. The lady working there was helping someone else on the other side, but came right over to me when Little Man Mike told her I was there.

"Now what did you say you wanted from the ticket machine?"

"I tried to get a PowerBall ticket from the left machine, and two Cash4Life with Easy Match from the right."

"Okay." She printed me those tickets from a terminal she had right there behind the service desk.

"Thank you. That's what I wanted. Are the machines working okay today?"

"Yes. The paper to print the tickets was jammed in both of them."

"Oh. I thought maybe the paper ran out, from all the PowerBall tickets people have been buying. Thank you for getting my tickets."

I must say, I was a bit surprised she printed those tickets. I was expecting a refund. Which I would have promptly put back in the machines anyway...

____________________________________________________________________

Anyhoo... back to my terrible Monday.

I went from Country Mart to Casey's. For once, there were only two cars parked in front, all the way down to the left side. I parked in front of the door, with a regular spot and a handicap spot on my right, and four empty spaces on my left.

Inside, I saw the clerk was the tall lady who had been buying tickets at Country Mart's right machine while I was losing my $2 in the left.

"Hi. Country Mart's machine stole my money, so I'm buying tickets here!" I handed her a $20 winner to cash in.

"I saw that!"

"It was only eight dollars, and I'll get it back tomorrow. So no big deal."

I completed my transaction and started back to T-Hoe. Another customer had come in while I was doing business. And now I saw that he had parked RIGHT BESIDE T-HOE! As in close. We were still both within the parking lines. I had cheated over to the right, to leave more room for T-Hoe's gargantuan door to open. This guy had done the same thing. For what reason I don't know. He was slim. Nothing else was parked on his other side.

So I had to only open T-Hoe's door to the first notch. I could hoist myself up on the running board, sore shoulder and all, but getting my left knee to bend and get my foot inside was an issue. I struggled with it a bit, and then got inside by pulling on my pants leg, and enduring the over-bending of the knee.

I was sure my day could only get better from there, but I was incorrect...

TO BE CONTINUED...

If Mrs HM Was Hot-To-Trot Yesterday, Then TODAY She Could Win The Kentucky Derby!

Sweet Gummi Mary! As if yesterday wasn't ire-inducing enough, what with the missing item in my package having been replaced by a cheaper item nothing like it... TODAY makes that issue look like a pea slept on under a stack of mattresses by a non-princess!

 

The package issue was Saturday. As I type this, it is Sunday night, and I am still fuming six hours after the "incidents," and having already shared my tale of woe with Farmer H AND The Pony.

Everywhere I went, there were problems. In fact, it's going to take multiple posts to do them all justice. And I do mean ALL. Save A Lot, Country Mart, Casey's, the Gas Station Chicken Store, and Orb K. What are the odds Mrs. HM would encounter trouble at EVERY VENUE SHE PATRONIZED?

We'll cover two of them today.

I had planned my trip. I needed a few items from Save A Lot. Things I only buy there. Like the BBQ sauce, and the store-brand Honey Nut Cheerios. We also need red Solo cups, and Oat Nut bread, bananas, garlic toast, and spaghetti sauce. I had a list. I had my winning scratchers to scan at their machine. I knew which tickets I was buying.

I turned T-Hoe onto the Save A Lot parking area, and saw that both sides of the parking rows were TAKEN! Maybe one empty space on the whole lot. No way was I going to squeeze in and then stand in line in the store. What kind of people go grocery shopping at 2:15 on a beautiful Sunday afternoon on the first weekend of the month?

Anyhoo... I drove out the lower end of the lot, deciding to come back another day. I should have realized this was a case of foreshadowing...

I proceeded to Country Mart, where I had planned to get our PowerBall tickets and The Pony's Cash4Life, and two of the $3 crossword scratchers. Since I had missed my chance at the Save A Lot lottery machine, there were also a couple $5 tickets I wanted.

As usual, I started at Country Mart's left lottery machine. I scanned in a $10 winner. I touched the screen to get one PowerBall ticket for $2. My balance dropped to $8. I waited for my paper draw ticket to come out the bottom of the machine. Nope. A message popped up. "Unable to process draw tickets at this time." 

Well, ain't that a fine how-do-you-do? It did NOT give me back my credit for the not-processed PowerBall ticket! As I was contemplating what to do next, the deli worker who gives me fresh chicken came up behind me.

"Are you buying my winners?"

"Maybe... but right now, the machine has taken me for TWO DOLLARS!"

"Oh. Let me get someone."

She hollered around to see who was working the service desk, and where they might be. It was Mike. The small older guy I see pretty often there. He was outside. She said he'd be back in a minute. So I got my other tickets using the $8 left. Then I waited. And waited. Then I went over to the right side machine, and scanned in another $10 winner, and touched the screen to get The Pony's two Cash4Life with Easy Match. $6 was subtracted from my credit. Then a message popped up: "Unable to process draw tickets at this time."

What in the Not-Heaven? I had thought it was just a problem with the left side machine, possibly being out of the paper needed to print those tickets. Now THIS machine had the same problem! I put in a dollar, and got a $5 scratcher. Then stepped back to wait some more.

The only cashier working hollered to another worker who had just come in from break: "Go get Mike. This lady has been waiting over ten minutes for him to come in and help her with the lottery."

When Mike came through the doors, he apologized.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know anyone was waiting for me. Do you need me to scan those tickets and see if they're winners?" He motioned to the tickets I had bought.

"No. I need to get my money back for the draw tickets that won't print. I have two dollars in this machine, and six dollars in that one."

"Oh. I am very sorry, but I don't have a key to the machines."

"Can you give me an IOU?"

"Step over here to the desk. I will get your information."

Mike gave me a little spiral notebook, open, and told me to write down my name, and what happened. A man came over behind me with his wife, asking for "Purple formula." Mike told him that the cashier could actually walk over to the desk and get it for him, but that he didn't want him to wait, so he'd get it. Then Mike started apologizing to me again.

"I am so sorry about this. And you're a regular, too! I see you in here all the time. You're SO POLITE! Such a nice lady. I apologize for the machines. The lady who can help you will be here in the morning. She gets here at 7:00. I'll leave her your note, and one from me. She's here until 2:00."

"So I need to be here by 2:00?"

"1:30. She will give you your eight dollars back. Could you maybe write down your phone number? I won't share it with anybody. I can call you when she's doing the machine. Or wait. Just tell me a time when you will be here, and I'll let her know."

"Probably 11:00. Unless that's her lunch time."

"Never mind if it's her lunch time! You come in at 11:00. You're SO NICE. I'm sorry for all this trouble. I am so used to people being mean. Talking down to me. I speak 9 languages! I used to be in Intelligence. But they want to act like I'm not even a person. It's people like you that give us a reason to work. When she runs the report on the machines, it will show up, and we'll get your money back."

"Thank you so much! I'm sure you learned how to deal with people like that, with all your Intelligence experience, but that doesn't make it any easier!"

"I wish everyone was as nice as you. I'm so sorry this happened."

"It's okay. I'll come in tomorrow at 11:00. Then I'll probably put that money right back into the lottery machine!"

So now I have to adjust my schedule! Not necessarily get up earlier, because I've been up by 8:00 since I came home from my Unfortunate HospitVALzation. To make sure The Pony is up, and talk to him before he leaves for work.

At least I had excellent customer service from the Country Mart crew.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Mrs. HM Is H To T

That stands for HOT TO TROT! And NOT in a pleasant way. In the usage of my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel, who said it when describing someone who was fit to be tied. Beside herself. Had her granny panties in a wad. Her nose out of joint. A bee in her bonnet. Hotter to trot than a wet hornet!

Please allow me to vent. I feel like the boiler at the Overlook Hotel. I don't have a Jack Torrance chewing aspirin and coming down to the basement to dump me.

I received a package today. It was delivered by FedEx. Nobody told me it was here. No email. No knock at the door. It was placed in the back of Farmer H's Gator under the carport. That's the BEST thing that happened with that package! I have no issue with FedEx today.

When I opened my package, AN ITEM WAS MISSING! Not only that, but a DIFFERENT ITEM was included. One that looked nothing like what I had ordered.

This was from a major online clothing company. I had ordered two shirts and two foundation garments. I received two shirts, one foundation garment, and a soft item in a see-through bag that looked like it MIGHT be a black v-neck cotton t-shirt. It was two sizes larger than anything I ordered. I'm pretty sure it cost about 1/4 the price of my brand-name foundation garment that was missing.

I called customer service. Louise was a good customer service rep. She had just the tiniest of an Asian accent. She was respectful and polite. I have nothing against Louise doing her job. However.... customer service for this company SUCKS!

The only way to get back my $43 dollars for the missing item is for me to SEND BACK THE UNORDERED ITEM! Is that legal? It is not MY fault that I was sent the wrong item. Why should I have to go to all the trouble of packaging that unwanted item, filling out a return form, driving to town, standing in line at the post office to mail it, then wait for an email E-Gift Card in the amount of my purchase??? That's a lot of trouble for somebody being cheated out of $43!

Sure, there may be some people who lie about not getting their items. Or what if they actually DON'T receive an item, and don't get a useless-to-them mistake item in their package? What do THEY have to do to get their money back?

I think the company should tell me to keep the unwanted useless-to-me item, and then immediately credit my credit card with the amount of the missing item. THAT would be good customer service. I've NEVER sent one item back to this company. Never called to complain of anything missing.

Maybe the company can't handle it this way, because they make SO MANY errors like this...