So a few weekends ago, someone was talking about how much he loves baltimore. He said it's got bite, and there are thing that happen here that could "only happen in baltimore", which is kind of true. there's lots of times I see something and just think: "totally Baltimore, right there" I don't know if it's a factor of the police having so much work to do that they don't sweat the small stuff or what, but it's good for a laugh lots of times.
Well yesterday, I had one of those moments. Unfortunately noone was around to share it and my neighbors failed to see the humor so I shall share it with ye, all 3 of you reading this.
I'm sitting on the couch minding my Ps and Qs when a clown car of crackheads rolls up and proceeds to dump 6 people and absurd quantities of lawn equipment right out front. My lawn being roughly 15x20 feet, anything more than 3 pieces of equipment is deemed excessive for the job. (disclaimer: i call them crackheads, and this may be stereotyping but i'm ok with that. i mean, perhaps they were just skinny, scabby, confused looking special people with few teeth and it was all an amazing coincidence. anyway, i digress.)
So the motley crew begins working on the lawn, and I'm wondering if this is one of those things where they come to your door for money and do your lawn, but people usually make sure to get paid first in those cases, so then I'm just thinking "sweet. free lawn care". I don't know what's going on, and I don't care. I hate lawn work, so cool if someone else wants to do it. Far be it from me to stand in their way. I go out back because the combined noise of the weedwhacker and crackheads babbling at each other is disturbing my peace. Apparently they were disturbing my neighbors peace as well as she came out back, looking very sad and disturbed and asked me to ask them to not weedwhack so close to the ground, theyre kicking up rocks etc and "it's making pings on her windows". I told her to go ask them (she has conflict avoidance issues and I'm helping her work on them. ha!) and she says she did but they told her no (!! how fucking great is that!? ) so I heave a giant sigh and decide I'll go do it and tell her she should watch to see how "No" is a jumping off point in negotiations. First I call my landlord to see if he's suddenly providing lawn care. He's not which I sort of knew. So I continue out front and try to get the attention of maniacal weedwhacker #1, which I finally do by SCREAMING (I can yell louder than a weedwhacker. go me!)
So I explain to the very nice, obviously f'ed up dude that he needs to quit what he's doing, 1) because he's worked my neurotic neighbor up and she's bitching at me and 2)they're at the wrong address. I did not order clown car o' crackheads' lawn services. They begin to pass this message down the bucket brigade, as apparently crackhead #1 speaks to people, but #2 only speaks to #1, #3 to #2, etc. The message (which I hear clearly from dude #5 but have to wait until it gets through to #1) comes back up the line that no, they're sure they're at the right place and Mr Tom sent them. Operator? I have no idea who "Mr Tom" is. Back/forth. "But this is (my house number, my street number here)" yep, it sure is. "Well then" says the group's designated public speaker "we in the right place" and proceeds to look like he's about to fire up the whacker again. I'm seriously tempted to just let them finish, because they're like half done at this point but I see the neighbor's curtains wiggle and I know she's in there silently fuming like any good conflict avoider and I just don't want to hear it again so I tell him "I believe y'all* might need to call Mr Tom and confirm that, because I definitely don't know him and I really think you're at the wrong place. I'd hate to think of you not getting paid because you did the wrong house". zing, heads swivel and tilt up and down the line. you talk money, people listen. I also add, for good measure, that in Baltimore all numbered streets have both east and west sides. They had mentioned neither when telling me the address, and I'm pretty sure this is where they went wrong.
(*y'all: I live south of the mason dixon line now. as part of embracing my new southern roots, I have decided to incorporate some southern phrases into my vocab. y'all is a personal favorite)
So they call Mr Tom, find out theyre at the wrong place and production immediately halts. I immediately wish I had waited until they finished to go out there, because they stop raking, stop sweeping, stop all of it and just throw their kit in the car and head for the other side of Charles. I'm a little put out, because now I have to rake when I really wasn't planning on it, but when I got out to see their work my mood was instantly lightened. The lawn is BALD. Down to the dirt, "grass? what grass?" bald. I will not have to mow this bad boy for at least a month, IF anything ever grows again. It kind of looks like chernobyl or something, all diseased and unable to grow grass. They basically shaved my lawn with the weedwhacker, and I find this hysterical so I'm raking as best I can while doubled over laughing about the whole thing (note: neighbor is now SURE I've hired them, because why else would I be raking their work, and how could I find this funny?? I try to explain to her, that no, I have not suddenly come into money and decided to hire a lawn service. I tell her I may be lazy, but damn I am *cheap*; believe this. Also, if I were going to hire someone, he would be hot and probably foreign, because that's how all the rich and famous roll but it would most certainly not be a car full of the ruthless and toothless city's finest. She remains skeptical, but because she is a conflict avoider she drops the topic and goes to her room with a headache)
Well yesterday, I had one of those moments. Unfortunately noone was around to share it and my neighbors failed to see the humor so I shall share it with ye, all 3 of you reading this.
I'm sitting on the couch minding my Ps and Qs when a clown car of crackheads rolls up and proceeds to dump 6 people and absurd quantities of lawn equipment right out front. My lawn being roughly 15x20 feet, anything more than 3 pieces of equipment is deemed excessive for the job. (disclaimer: i call them crackheads, and this may be stereotyping but i'm ok with that. i mean, perhaps they were just skinny, scabby, confused looking special people with few teeth and it was all an amazing coincidence. anyway, i digress.)
So the motley crew begins working on the lawn, and I'm wondering if this is one of those things where they come to your door for money and do your lawn, but people usually make sure to get paid first in those cases, so then I'm just thinking "sweet. free lawn care". I don't know what's going on, and I don't care. I hate lawn work, so cool if someone else wants to do it. Far be it from me to stand in their way. I go out back because the combined noise of the weedwhacker and crackheads babbling at each other is disturbing my peace. Apparently they were disturbing my neighbors peace as well as she came out back, looking very sad and disturbed and asked me to ask them to not weedwhack so close to the ground, theyre kicking up rocks etc and "it's making pings on her windows". I told her to go ask them (she has conflict avoidance issues and I'm helping her work on them. ha!) and she says she did but they told her no (!! how fucking great is that!? ) so I heave a giant sigh and decide I'll go do it and tell her she should watch to see how "No" is a jumping off point in negotiations. First I call my landlord to see if he's suddenly providing lawn care. He's not which I sort of knew. So I continue out front and try to get the attention of maniacal weedwhacker #1, which I finally do by SCREAMING (I can yell louder than a weedwhacker. go me!)
So I explain to the very nice, obviously f'ed up dude that he needs to quit what he's doing, 1) because he's worked my neurotic neighbor up and she's bitching at me and 2)they're at the wrong address. I did not order clown car o' crackheads' lawn services. They begin to pass this message down the bucket brigade, as apparently crackhead #1 speaks to people, but #2 only speaks to #1, #3 to #2, etc. The message (which I hear clearly from dude #5 but have to wait until it gets through to #1) comes back up the line that no, they're sure they're at the right place and Mr Tom sent them. Operator? I have no idea who "Mr Tom" is. Back/forth. "But this is (my house number, my street number here)" yep, it sure is. "Well then" says the group's designated public speaker "we in the right place" and proceeds to look like he's about to fire up the whacker again. I'm seriously tempted to just let them finish, because they're like half done at this point but I see the neighbor's curtains wiggle and I know she's in there silently fuming like any good conflict avoider and I just don't want to hear it again so I tell him "I believe y'all* might need to call Mr Tom and confirm that, because I definitely don't know him and I really think you're at the wrong place. I'd hate to think of you not getting paid because you did the wrong house". zing, heads swivel and tilt up and down the line. you talk money, people listen. I also add, for good measure, that in Baltimore all numbered streets have both east and west sides. They had mentioned neither when telling me the address, and I'm pretty sure this is where they went wrong.
(*y'all: I live south of the mason dixon line now. as part of embracing my new southern roots, I have decided to incorporate some southern phrases into my vocab. y'all is a personal favorite)
So they call Mr Tom, find out theyre at the wrong place and production immediately halts. I immediately wish I had waited until they finished to go out there, because they stop raking, stop sweeping, stop all of it and just throw their kit in the car and head for the other side of Charles. I'm a little put out, because now I have to rake when I really wasn't planning on it, but when I got out to see their work my mood was instantly lightened. The lawn is BALD. Down to the dirt, "grass? what grass?" bald. I will not have to mow this bad boy for at least a month, IF anything ever grows again. It kind of looks like chernobyl or something, all diseased and unable to grow grass. They basically shaved my lawn with the weedwhacker, and I find this hysterical so I'm raking as best I can while doubled over laughing about the whole thing (note: neighbor is now SURE I've hired them, because why else would I be raking their work, and how could I find this funny?? I try to explain to her, that no, I have not suddenly come into money and decided to hire a lawn service. I tell her I may be lazy, but damn I am *cheap*; believe this. Also, if I were going to hire someone, he would be hot and probably foreign, because that's how all the rich and famous roll but it would most certainly not be a car full of the ruthless and toothless city's finest. She remains skeptical, but because she is a conflict avoider she drops the topic and goes to her room with a headache)
I was not bold enough to photo the crew while they worked, but here is a glimpse of their handywork. Thankfully they didn't get to the whole lawn, so I have some "before" type pictures.
what the part they didnt do looks like. i don't believe in using good water on silly ground, so it's a bit dry and the grass isnt great, but its there...
what the lawn looks like now
dramatic difference here
crackheads dont work for free. this is the aftermath of the troops early withdrawal from Operation Vegetation Obliteration.
1 comment:
I don't believe you use the phrase "y'all" and if you do, I'm sure you sound awkward doing it.
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