One night, right after I got back
from my last Disney trip and during my epic trip report, I got a run to a very
nice neighborhood in the next town over from our store. I was actually looking
forward to going there because it is a very nice neighborhood and I didn’t have
to worry about anything stupid happening.
Only an idiot would think nothing stupid could happen in a very nice
neighborhood, enter me.
I went to this pretty cape-style home with an extremely well taken care of lawn.
There was a two car garage attached to the house where the door with the light
was on. The owners had decorated their home very nicely, with harvest type
decorations for Halloween along the side of the house covering the doorbell. I
didn’t want to mess up their decorations so I knocked on the door, hoping they
would hear me through the garage.
A clean cut man, about 5’10, 220lbs wearing kaki pants and a dress shirt opened
the door. I remember this because it’s the same description I had to give the
police. I complemented him on the decorations around his home and told him I
couldn’t find his doorbell. Mr. ‘kaki pants’ was happy to show me where the
doorbell was hidden and I couldn’t help thinking, ‘I don’t need the doorbell
NOW, your standing right here.’
I didn’t know then that I would be back and the doorbell would be very useful
later.
I bet he was sorry for showing me where the doorbell was.
I handed him his order totaling $27. He handed me the money folded in half, said
‘There’s a little something for you.’ and pushed the door closed very quickly. I
thought he looked at me a little oddly, I assumed it was a tip he was talking
about, thanked him through the closed door and walked back to my truck without
counting the money.
I usually always count the money at the door, but I was in a very nice
neighborhood at a pretty cape-style home with a hidden doorbell, dealing with a
clean cut man in kaki pants. I had nothing to worry about.
I am such an idiot.
I returned to the store to count the folded money and drop it into my cash box.
There was one ten and one five dollar bill. Inside of those were six ‘monopoly’
looking two dollars bills. ‘What the…?’
I showed them to my boss and he told me the coupons are given out FREE to
parents from the school. The customer pays full price for their food and gives
the driver the coupon, the store donates two dollars for each coupon back to the
school. It’s a fund raiser to collect $80,000 for the school, two dollars at a
time. They have no cash value to anyone but the school. The customer must pay
full price for their food and can only use one for each order.
Great, Mr. ‘kaki pants’ owes me $12.00 ‘That’s the price of a refillable mug at
Pop Century.’ I was thinking to myself and I wanted my money. At the end of the
night, the store totals up my sales and that’s what I have to pay out of my cash
box. That $12.00 was coming out of my pocket, not the stores.
I called Mr. ‘kaki pants’ and tried telling him there was a misunderstanding,
that the money he had given the driver wasn’t legal tender and the driver would
be coming back to collect the $12.00. I didn’t want him to know I was the
driver, I don’t know why; I was trying to sound like a friendly manager.
He said something nasty to me about knowing what he did and hung up on me
mid-sentence.
That was very rude.
My boss told me to call the police. I was still surprised at what Mr. ‘kaki
pants’ said to me. He knew the coupons weren’t money, that’s why he closed the
door so quick. He did it on purpose.
I called back and got Mr. ‘kaki pants’ answering machine. The answering machine
was friendly enough so at the beep I said, “Sorry sir, seams that we were
disconnected. I just want you to know the driver is on the way back to your
house and you have one of two choices available to you, you can pay the driver
the money you owe or we can send the police to your home to collect it.” I
waited a few seconds thinking that Mr. ‘kaki pants’ would pick up the phone and
we could work this out without involving the police. Please Mr. ‘kaki pants’
pick up your phone and don’t make me waste the police officers time.
Mr. ‘kaki pants’ had his chance. I still didn’t believe I was going to need to
call the police, I mean, surly he would want to make this right, living in a
very nice neighborhood and all. Who wants to get arrested over $12.00?
I took another run and went back to the very nice neighborhood with the pretty
cape-style home and extremely well taken care of lawn. I really believed that we
could work this out, I would be paid my $12.00 and go back to work.
I must have still had a ‘pixie dust’ buzz going on from our Disney trip to
believe it was going to be that easy.
I left my truck running and the door wide open. I knocked on the door attached
to the garage again and waited. Nothing.
I gently moved the harvest decorations aside to find the hidden doorbell and
rang it. Still nothing.
I was rehearsing my speech in my head of what I was going to say to Mr. ‘kaki
pants’ when he finally opened the door. For some reason I was convinced that
people who live in these pretty cape-style homes are civilized human beings who
can be reasoned with. I was getting pretty mad because I knew he deliberately
gave me the stupid ‘monopoly money’ coupons knowing full well that they weren’t
legal tender and now he was wasting my time.
I rang the hidden doorbell about 14 times in a row, all at once. I was getting
sick of being ignored and wanted my Pop Century refillable mug money. I was done
playing games with Mr. ‘kaki pants.’
When the door FINALLY was flung open I met Mr. ‘kaki pants’ finger-waving wife.
I could imagine under different circumstances she was a very pretty lady. At
that moment however, her face was all twisted up and she was using some of the
foulest language I had ever heard.
I fought the urge to laugh because it sounded so ridiculous coming out of the
mouth of someone who looks like she worked in a law office or something. She had
very nicely styled hair, fashionable clothes, a lovely manicure and a big ring
on the finger she was waving ½ inch away from my nose.
She was screaming at me to get back in my truck and go back to the store. She
was also screaming that she had my boss on the phone and would have my job.
Lady, trust me, you don’t want my job right now. Why do you want my job anyway?
The crazy finger-waving lady scared me and I almost went back to my truck. I
jumped back in surprise because of the language coming out of her mouth and
because her finger was getting very close to my nose. I am so glad I didn’t push
her hand away, because she probably would have tried to have me arrested for
assault or something stupid.
I stood my ground and when the crazy finger-waving lady finally stopped
screaming for a second I calmly told her “I would be happy to leave after I am
paid my money. Pay me my money or I am calling the police.”
I have heard of people going ballistic, I had never actually witnessed it until
then.
She was screaming ‘How dare YOU? How dare you threaten ME?’
My reply was still very calm even though I was a little scared “It is not a
threat madam, it is a promise, and I promise I will bring the police.”
I am glad that she was going so bananas and I couldn’t help but stare at her
because if I had turned away for one second I wouldn’t have seen Mr. ‘kaki
pants’ when he came flying out the door of the house that was inside the garage.
He had his phone in his hand and was telling the crazy finger-waving wife to
call the police because he was going to pound the (bad word) out of me as he was
running at me.
Thanks for the head start Mr. ‘kaki pants’, don’t think I’ll be sticking around
for that.
I ran to my truck, jumped in and hit the power locks.
It’s interesting how much higher up the power locks are in your vehicle when you
are panicking. I jammed my finger straight down on the lock and bent my middle
finger backwards.
I decided to remove the sticker from the side-view mirror that says “Caution,
objects are closer than they appear” and put it on my steering wheel as a
reminder of where the power locks are located when I got back to the store.
Great, now I was injured.
Mr. ‘kaki pants’ was still screaming at his wife to call the police. Through my
rolled up window I yelled to him “She can’t! YOU have the phone!”
Mr. ‘kaki pants’ was a dummy.
What I didn’t know was on the other end of the phone was my boss. He heard Mr.
‘kaki pants’ threaten to ‘pound the (bad word)’ out of me. He had already called
the police.
“Don’t worry; I have the police on speed dial for people like you.” I said to
Mr. ‘kaki pants’ through the window as I whipped out my cell phone.
People like him don’t want to be called ‘people like you’ by people like me. Get
that?
Mr. ‘kaki pants’ started kicking my front tire. I don’t like my front tire
kicked by ‘people like him’ so I started to back out of his driveway.
He tried to put his foot under my tire to stop me.
He really is a dummy.
Couldn’t decide if he wanted me to stay or go, I guess.
I was going no matter where his foot was.
I only went as far as the street to get off his property and onto public
property incase I had to charge this guy with vandalism along with theft.
So I called the police as Mr. ‘kaki pants’ and his crazy finger-waving wife went
back into their house to scream at my boss that they still had on the phone.
The dispatcher already knew my story when I called and told me the officers
where already on their way. “Are you injured, madam?” She asked me.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. I bent my middle finger backwards when I hit my
power-locks. Really smarts. I wouldn’t object to you sending some handsome
firemen.” I told her.
I made a friend. She laughed. She suggested I file a claim with Workman’s Comp.
Surely the insurance company would understand that when your job is that of a
driver, the middle finger is the most important finger out of them all. Think of
it as a tool of the trade.
I’m joking; I never use the middle finger.
Okay, once. But she started it.
Anyway, I hung up with the police and was lonely, so I decided to call my boss
and let him know where I was and tell him about Mr. ‘Kaki pants’ and his crazy
finger-waving wife.
I got as far as “Hi, it’s me…..” when he stared yelling “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”
I told him about my serious middle finger injury and the request of some
handsome firemen.
He did NOT think it was funny. The last thing he had heard was Mr. ‘Kaki pants’
threat and then some sounds of kicking.
Yeah, I bet that sounded pretty bad on the other end of the phone.
When Mr. ‘Kaki pants’ was doing that, my boss was yelling “DON’T TOUCH MY
DRIVER! SHE IS A MOTHER OF THREE KIDS!”
It was the words ‘she’ and ‘mother’ that upset the rest of the store. They all
knew which driver was in trouble at that point and they were all flipping out.
I am still THANKING GOD that it was Commando Nikki’s night off from work. I
can’t imagine what those few minutes would have been like for her.
The guys were trying to break into the computer to find out where I was, because
the computer tracks and times us every time we leave the store. You need a code
to do that, and my boss didn’t want to make a bad situation even worse by have
10 guys show up there.
I didn’t need the guys, the police showed up very quickly.
Without the handsome firemen.
So, I received my money from Mr. ‘Kaki pants’ in front of the officers because
he was going to go to jail if he didn’t and I offered him back his coupons. He
told me where I could put them.
I put them in my pocket instead.
When I got back to the store, you would have thought I just returned from Iraq.
There was hugging and a few tears….
But no concern at all over my injured middle finger.
I hope to one day meet Mr. ‘Kaki pants’ and his finger waving wife at a
parent-teacher conference. I already know what I’m going to say to him.
Love ya, Mean it.
Love Ya / Mean It and BadShoe.com Pins
Tony, Delaney, Connor -
Love Ya / Mean It
Robin & Del, Kimball & Bennet (aka Delswife & Scuba Steve, Zurgswife
& Zurg) are
proud to announce two unique limited edition trading pins to
benefit research to help find cures for Juvenile Diabetes and
Muscular Dystrophy.
We love going to Disney World and writing
funny trip reports, after all it is how we became friends.
We care just as much or more about helping these two great causes. All the
profits from pin sales will go to JDRF
and MDA because, well, Robin thought it would be a fun idea.
So if you enjoy the trip reports
please chip in and buy a pin or two. Pins are $10.00 each including shipping and
handling (North America.) Send an email to pins@badshoe.com
with how many pins you would like and we will get the pins rolling.
If you feel inspired click
either MDA or JDRF's logo or both and make additional contributions.
