An Advantage-Taker Lights Mrs. HM's Fuse

Tuesday, I stepped into the Gas Station Chicken Store to see three people in line ahead of me. They were kind of spread out, so I had to stand at the wall between the two bathrooms. 

There was a guy paying at the counter. A woman who was done, but standing behind him stuffing her red tickets for the gas drawing into the box sitting on top of a tower of beer cases. Then a holy-roller-looking lady in a long skirt, rainbow-striped knee socks, and sandals, waiting on the other side of the entrance to the middle aisle. With a working man standing in that aisle leaving a space between them indicating that Holy Roller was ahead of him. He caught my eye as I walked in, and I nodded. Just meaning that I saw him, and knew he was there first.

The ticket-stuffer completed her mission and left, so Holy Roller moved over a bit towards the counter. I stepped over by her previous place next to a snack cake display. Working Man took a step forward. While all this shuffling was going on, there was an Orange Shirt Man roaming along the beverage coolers on the back aisle. While Holy Roller was paying for gas, Orange Shirt Man got in line behind Working Man.

Holy Roller left. I nodded to Working Man. "You were here before me." He stepped up to the counter.

SWEET GUMMI MARY!

Orange Shirt Man, holding a tall canned beverage which looked more like an energy drink that a tallboy beer, followed Working Man like they were new Army recruits instructed to stand nuts-to-butts in line for vaccinations! 

IT WAS NOT HIS TURN! I had been in the store way before he left the coolers and got in line.

I figure maybe he saw me holding two scratchers to cash in, and felt entitled to forge ahead of me. No way could he have thought I was talking to HIM about being there first. I didn't make eye contact with him, and he knew I was there when he got in line. I didn't appear out of thin air.

When Orange Shirt Man set his beverage on the counter, he told the cashier: "And give me four number 10s, and four number 6s." So not just simply paying for a drink, but also buying scratchers! Then he had the nerve to turn and look at me over his shoulder. Perhaps to gloat, I presume. I was staring out the door, careful not to lock eyes with him. But I'm sure he could tell by my expression that I wasn't having it. I knew exactly what he did!

Once he was out the door, I was the lone customer. I whined to Cashier about him taking my turn. I did not blame her at all. She was busy, and couldn't see down that aisle for when Orange Shirt Man got in line.

"Some people just can't wait their turn! He's probably going to be in the next place I go, too! Sorry. I'm just complaining. People like that drive me crazy."

Too bad it wasn't Fave's day to work. We could have had a good gripe session.

A Sudden Moment Of Clarity

I remembered! A mere 24 hours after I forgot my blogging topic, it was back! Not with all the details, but the general idea. I count that a victory for the steel-trap mind of Mrs. HM.

On my way to town Monday, I stopped as usual to put on my seatbelt at the end of our gravel road, just before pulling out onto the county blacktop road. That seatbelting spot is right across from Mailbox Row. One second I was slowing down, reaching for that seatbelt, and the next second my eye was drawn to the top of Mailbox Row, where sat a new mailbox.

That's it! That's what I was going to mention in my forgotten blog post! The "new" mailbox that had stunned Farmer H, The Pony, and me way back in February when we first saw it. I even wrote about it on my not-so-secret blog, on February 23.

The gist of that previous tale was that a new mailbox doesn't last long out here in the middle of nowhere. As I said back then, "The hopefulness of it makes my heart hurt."

BUT IT'S STILL THERE! Unblemished. Not a scratch. Perched atop Mailbox Row like a glittery unicorn with a protective force-field.

When I brought The Pony out to the Mansion last Sunday for our album-release listening party, I pointed out that mailbox.

"Can you believe it? How can that mailbox have survived all this time?"

The Pony, perhaps with mail-delivery insight, said, "I'm betting it belongs to the people who were bashing mailboxes."

Choose what you wish to believe in. Magic. Divine intervention. Criminals not crapping in their own backyard. Or in this case, their own mailbox.

Mrs. HM Is The Losingest Loser

I've been betrayed by my lucky bone! For 18 days, I have been losing at scratchers! I don't mean complete shut-outs. Haven't had one of those. But only winning $6, or $9, or $12 per day is not what I'm accustomed to, considering what I spend on scratchers. I've had to dip into my casino bankroll a couple of times!!!

The only exceptions were one day when I used The Pony's accumulated winnings from his daily Cash4Life draw tickets, to buy him a $50 ticket that he requested out of the blue. My lucky bone was functioning that day! He won $100 on it. And four or five days later, I won $70, hitting $50 on a $10 ticket, and $20 on a $5 ticket. But lately, the only thing that pays are my $3 tickets.

Of course I keep buying them! What kind of a gambler do you think I am, anyway? A smart one? Au contraire. I keep funneling that money right back into the gaping maw that devours my weekly allowance and casino bankroll. Every day, I'm sure I'll be a winner...

Because, you know, a losing streak can't last forever. Just like a winning streak.

The Mind Is The First To Go, And Mrs. HM's Has Done Gone

I usually write up my two blog posts before I go to town, and set them to publish the next morning. Sometimes if I'm running late, one or both might not get done until that evening. Sunday, my main blog post was ready, but I didn't have a topic for this one. I figured something might happen in town that was complainable blogworthy.

As I started down the gravel road for town, an idea popped into my head. By the time I was at the low water bridge on the county blacktop road, it had grown into a complete blog post. I knew what I was going to say. Could see parts of actual sentences in my head. I still remember specific sections of the road where I was making certain points.

I CAN'T remember my topic.

It's gone! Gone with the drive to town! I've mentally re-traced my steps. From shower to putting on shoes to gathering up my purse to going into the garage to driving along composing that blog post.

I got nothin'.

Of course it would have been the most amusing and pertinent story ever told! The world shall be a lesser place with the loss of Mrs. HM's masterpiece.

I rue the day I stopped taking my little flip notebook with me in my purse. I could have pulled over and jotted down the topic, at least. Thing is... you never think you're going to forget.

Mrs. HM Casts A Line And Phishs For Herself

Sweet Gummi Mary! Can Google and Gmail and Blogger and all their related products quit snooping and trying to run my life???

Saturday afternoon, I was getting my blogs ready for the next day. From my phone, I emailed myself pictures of the Senior Center lunch that Farmer H brought home Friday evening. Three pictures. One labeled SOUP. One labeled SIDES. One labeled SOGGY REUBEN.

I went to my Gmail account to download those pictures for my not-so-secret blog. And was astounded to open up to a big red box! A warning that I had apparently sent myself a dangerous message! This message was on the SOUP and SIDES emails, but not on the SOGGY REUBEN email, which showed up as normal, with my picture ready to download.

_________________________________________________________________

This message seems dangerous

Similar messages were used to steal people's personal information. Avoid clicking links, downloading attachments, or replying with personal information.

Looks safe 

_________________________________________________________________

One attachment scanned by Gmail

Downloading this attachment is disabled. This email has been identified as phishing. If you want to download it and you trust this message, click "Looks safe" in the banner above.

_________________________________________________________________

Shame on me for phishing myself! At least I didn't reel myself in. 

I re-sent those two photos, and they arrived as normal in new emails. I did everything the same as usual. I hope this is not going to be a continuing issue.

Another Pony House Mystery Solved

We were only a few minutes into our 6:00 a.m. phone conversation when The Pony said:

"Is Dad still there? I'm going to send a video with a noise coming from my bathroom. I don't know what it is. I hope it's nothing in the walls, or something wrong with the wiring. I heard it when I woke up, and at first I thought it was the fans on my gaming computers running extra-loud. But the more awake I got, I realized it was coming from the other direction. My bathroom, not the living room. I'm going in there now."

I was getting read to receive that video, and hand the phone to Farmer H. But The Pony was talking again.

"Never mind. I found the problem. It was my toothbrush on the bathroom floor. Running. Somehow it jumped itself off the sink overnight or this morning. I don't know how long it was going. But now it won't work since I picked it up and turned it off."

"The charge is probably used up. It might have been going for a while."

"Yeah."

"Bummer. You'll have to move your arm to brush your teeth now!"

Not a big deal. Certainly less worrisome than a critter in the walls, or a problem with the wiring. Still, one more obstacle to The Pony starting his workday.

Not to mention how that toothbrush ended up on the floor, running....

Farmer H's Feud Update

You may recall that the atmosphere around Farmer H and his former best friend at the Senior Center has been quite frosty lately. Neither is willing to talk it out adultly, or concede that they may have been responsible for whatever imaginary or real transgression occurred.

I've told Farmer H that he's being petty about this. He says he has tried to start a discussion. Yet whenever a tale of interaction with his new nemesis is told, Farmer H speaks in a mocking, sing-song-y voice. So it's obvious he's not open to a real dialogue, or even forgiveness if it turns out New Nemesis was at fault.

This week, Farmer H only ate once or twice at the Senior Center. He said his other buddy there said there have been numerous complaints about New Nemesis. Again, I'm hearing this second-hand, through Farmer H's filter. So I don't know the actual situation.

A couple days ago, Farmer H said that his buddy revealed that there were going to be changes, due to complaints. That New Nemesis would be doing other assignments rather than at the counter (or something like that) because that was the area with most complaints. 

Yesterday, Farmer H said that New Nemesis gave a short speech to the elderlies at lunch. That she had been offered another job, and would not be doing her job as it currently was at the Senior Center. And that bingo would be more often, and cost $5 to play! I asked Farmer H if he thought this was accurate, and he said he didn't think so.

"How could they charge you elderlies $5 to play bingo??? Aren't the prizes donated? It's not like the prizes are worth $5, even if you win!"

"I know. That don't make sense. She said somethin' about having a corporate sponsor each week for the bingo. So maybe they would be giving the prizes. But I don't know why we'd have to pay to win donated prizes."

"How can the elderlies afford to play bingo at that price? Isn't it meant as an activity for them? I can't imagine they can pay to play. Are they just supposed to sit and watch others play?"

"Most of them people that live upstairs didn't have any idea what she was telling them."

It's sad that such a situation has developed. I don't know what's going on with New Nemesis. She and Farmer H were such good buddies for quite a while. I'm sure he will get the blame for whatever changes come about. At least in HER mind.