I was wandering around in a bookstore when I noticed that the Romance Aisle books and the Science Fiction Aisle books were facing towards each other so that folks would be in the same space while they browsed for their respective books. This was the same weekend I had finished watching the last four DVDs of Lost Season 2, so I must admit that was...
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I destroyed a wall over the course of the last two days. It was a bitty wall, not more than 12 feet in length. There was some debate as to if the wall was load bearing or not and no-one wanted to take responsibility of saying "this is fine" (ah the litigious world of liability we live in). So armed with a profesional's assesment of...
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VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
bb:
I'm really psyched about my little home improvement projects. The electricians got a good giggle at me while I struggled to peel away the outer Sheetrock layer of the wall to get at the inner tender layer of wooden studs. And the carpenter was .... surprised... to see that I had taken his comments and run with the ball. The kitchen is starting to shape up very nicely. I'm going to be psyched to invite friends over and cook them food. I blame my parrents for always hosting dinner parties when I was growing up.
bb:
Unremembered good deeds:
The when was probably Tuesday of last week.
The settings starts (as often these do) in the bedroom.
I was all snuggled up in bed, pleasantly daydreaming about a particular lady in my life (not the Stephanie mentioned in the crush nor the bartender girl, nor the pretty girl who was pimping DARE)
and low and behold the doorbell ring-a-ling-lings.
Could I be so lucky as to have life imitate dreams?
No I could not.
Outside was an 87 year old man. We'll call him John, (because that was his name)
John was barefoot and dressed in a blue bathrobe.
"do you have a phone?" he asked
and I lied "no" (that's not the good deed by the way)
J- "I'm lost, I live at (the address of the complex that I live), and I locked myself out"
He lives in the G block, I live in the F block. I brought him in out of the cold.
John didn't have any relatives in the area that had keys. And he didn't want to call them.
I recently switched phones and the complex maintenance dude's phone number is lost in the old phone.
So not having anyone to call I dialed 911.
"is he dangerous" they asked me while I told my story.
well no. but that's not the point.
And so 911 *cough* is a joke *cough* gave the emergency contact number for the complex.
Called the number - it was an answering service.
the standard answer for people who were locked out "have them call a locksmith"
and John said "I'll pay you whatever you want"
Maybe my parents taught me right from wrong and I'm pretty sure that you're not supposed to take money from addled old men in blue bathrobes. And I have a strong sense of social justice and a desire to build lasting community so I say "John pay me 200 dollars or we're done and you're going to freeze to death outside in the cold because 911 already left you for dead because you weren't a threat to me" - NO actually, I said "John I'm not going to take your money"
"John, here's the deal, you can crash here if you like and we can call the locksmith in the morning so they don't' charge you like it is a 2am emergency or we can call them now"
he wanted to call them now.
They sent their specialist.
fiddles and twists, a deft turn of the pick, he pops the lock in 15 minutes, but turns in the wrong way, so we have to try again. and again. and again. and again. and again.
an hour and a half later, we have tried the front and the back door.
and we are going to have to drill. This is to the outside lock because while John had no problem panicedly buzzing my doorbell in the F block he doesn't want to wring on any body's doorbell in the G block where he lives (or claims to live)
The locksmith goes to get his drill, but he forgot the battery.
And now he comes back with something that looks like what they take your blood pressure with at the doctor, only instead of a tube you can put your arm into, it is a flat inflatable widget. He slips those into the door, one above the lock, one below it.
pump pump pump.
The door pops open! (Hooray for expensive locks and relatively cheap frames)
The hard part over, the locksmith goes for Door number 2.
John finally did get into his apartment. It was his apartment (that would have been irony on a whole different level). and the locksmith didn't charge him an insane price.
It was 4:00 am.
The day/evening dream didn't come back.
The when was probably Tuesday of last week.
The settings starts (as often these do) in the bedroom.
I was all snuggled up in bed, pleasantly daydreaming about a particular lady in my life (not the Stephanie mentioned in the crush nor the bartender girl, nor the pretty girl who was pimping DARE)
and low and behold the doorbell ring-a-ling-lings.
Could I be so lucky as to have life imitate dreams?
No I could not.
Outside was an 87 year old man. We'll call him John, (because that was his name)
John was barefoot and dressed in a blue bathrobe.
"do you have a phone?" he asked
and I lied "no" (that's not the good deed by the way)
J- "I'm lost, I live at (the address of the complex that I live), and I locked myself out"
He lives in the G block, I live in the F block. I brought him in out of the cold.
John didn't have any relatives in the area that had keys. And he didn't want to call them.
I recently switched phones and the complex maintenance dude's phone number is lost in the old phone.
So not having anyone to call I dialed 911.
"is he dangerous" they asked me while I told my story.
well no. but that's not the point.
And so 911 *cough* is a joke *cough* gave the emergency contact number for the complex.
Called the number - it was an answering service.
the standard answer for people who were locked out "have them call a locksmith"
and John said "I'll pay you whatever you want"
Maybe my parents taught me right from wrong and I'm pretty sure that you're not supposed to take money from addled old men in blue bathrobes. And I have a strong sense of social justice and a desire to build lasting community so I say "John pay me 200 dollars or we're done and you're going to freeze to death outside in the cold because 911 already left you for dead because you weren't a threat to me" - NO actually, I said "John I'm not going to take your money"
"John, here's the deal, you can crash here if you like and we can call the locksmith in the morning so they don't' charge you like it is a 2am emergency or we can call them now"
he wanted to call them now.
They sent their specialist.
fiddles and twists, a deft turn of the pick, he pops the lock in 15 minutes, but turns in the wrong way, so we have to try again. and again. and again. and again. and again.
an hour and a half later, we have tried the front and the back door.
and we are going to have to drill. This is to the outside lock because while John had no problem panicedly buzzing my doorbell in the F block he doesn't want to wring on any body's doorbell in the G block where he lives (or claims to live)
The locksmith goes to get his drill, but he forgot the battery.
And now he comes back with something that looks like what they take your blood pressure with at the doctor, only instead of a tube you can put your arm into, it is a flat inflatable widget. He slips those into the door, one above the lock, one below it.
pump pump pump.
The door pops open! (Hooray for expensive locks and relatively cheap frames)
The hard part over, the locksmith goes for Door number 2.
John finally did get into his apartment. It was his apartment (that would have been irony on a whole different level). and the locksmith didn't charge him an insane price.
It was 4:00 am.
The day/evening dream didn't come back.
"not to bad to play computer with a jug of wine" (there may have been an empty red wine bottle, there at the time"
Well we got rid of the empty bottle of red wine and replaced it with a not empty bottle of Tequila!
So WATCH OUT world! (and as my sister the be_elzebe remarks, it cures the influenza)
Sharks do.
Just a smidge. but I think I look great for 99 huh?