First silly thing that I did was after my friends and I had unpacked my furniture from the U-haul I had to take the emptry truck back. And of course, I didn’t have an expressway pass on me so I had no choice but to take the slow route back through local roads.
And since all my dumb luck tends to pile up at once, the one road I wanted to take is closed and I had to take an alternative route that I’m only sort of familiar with. I know it’ll get me where I want to go but I can’t quite picture what’s on that street.
The back story here is that I’ve moved a little closer to a ritzier side of town. A side of town where they all wear Polo’s, khaki’s, and belong to yacht clubs. Mind you, I’m closer to it, I don’t actually live in it.
Anyway, I turn this big, honkin’ U-haul down the road I have driven before in my car, but don’t really realize how much bigger this stupid rental truck is than my car. And of course, as I turn I remember it’s a two lane road right smack through the middle of a hoity little shopping district. And of course this is the Sunday with what can only be described as the world’s preppiest farmer’s market. It’s a quaint little town center with shops like Anthropologie and Williams-Sonoma.
Yup. Families in their Polo’s out walking their extremely well groomed dogs and children all turn to see who the moron is driving this monstrosity down their farmer’s market. I imagine some of them started thinking, “A U-haul? Who doesn’t have movers? There goes the neighborhood.”
Second silly thing. This doesn’t involve the possible murder. We’ll get to that soon.
I really like my new apartment as it features all things a big girl needs: washer/dryer, dishwasher, indoor plumbing, etc. I finally have all the amenities by myself that I couldn’t afford at age 24 living in a one-room, wall unit A/C, shit hole. Thus, I’m super stoked at the end of my work day on Monday to be driving home and thinking about what I’ll whip up for dinner in my new big girl apartment.
Rice and beans, or maybe some soup. Mmm mmm! My dinner will be so yummy!
I walk in and change into my post work chillaxin’ clothes (AKA some form of old ass running tee and soffee cheer shorts I’ve had since ’99). I make my way to the kitchen, mouth watering for din-din. I pull out the food items and low and behold! I have no microwave.
Fail. (I will be getting one this weekend, not to worry.)
And thirdly, this is really just about being paranoid safe.
On the Friday of my move I had scheduled the cable guy to come set up my internet and cable box. This cable guy was a no call, no show, so I had to reschedule for Saturday. Side note: Are all cable companies like this everywhere?
Saturday arrives and cable guy shows up a little early and begins to set up cable and such. As he is installing it he starts making small talk. And asking questions. Questions like, “So when do you move your furniture in?” and “Oh so then you aren’t staying here tonight?” and “I see your friend on facebook has a bike.” (That would be KC since I was updating her facebook status during her Ironman.)
Now I’m sure that a man would just think, “Whatever. Dude is bored so he’s talking to me.” I am not a dude. I am thinking, “Oh dear God! This man is going to come back and steal all of my shit! Or he’s going to come back steal all of my shit and murder me! Or he’s going to just murder me and say man this chick has a lot of dumb shit!”
He leaves and I lock the hell out of everything and block the doors with random shoes and boxes and stuff I’ve yet to hang or unpack. And tell Lloyd he must stop being mildly deaf for the rest of the evening.
The next two days nothing happens and I relax and realize that I am just a paranoid freak. Hahaha. Silly paranoid girl. Nothing to see here. Until…last night.
I’m on my way to my new run when I get a call from CABLE GUY!
He says, “Hi. Is this the woman at blank-blank-blank address that I installed cable box for on Saturday?”
Gulp. “Yes.”
“Oh ok, well I forgot to take a sticker with the serial number off the cable box and I need it. Can you give me that number?”
Stammering. “Uh, uhm. Well, I’m not home right now and won’t be for a bit.” (Inner monologue – SHIT YOU MORON! WAY TO TELL HIM YOU AREN’T HOME! AND THEN HE’LL KNOW WHEN YOU ARE!
“Ok, well you can just call me or text it when you do get home.” (Perceived sinister sneer through phone.)
In the next 20 minutes it takes me to get to my run location I rehearse how my death will go and how no one will know the cable guy murdered me because I didn’t tell anyone about this entire situation. I can’t call my sister cause I don’t want her to panic if in fact it’s nothing and I’m being my typical paranoid self. Too much crime TV, I admit it.
I get to my run and explain this situation to a male friend. He decides that he’ll just call the cable guy for me. Well, that’s a relief. Stupid cable guy will think I live with a big, scary dude with many weapons. Of course he can tell all of that by my friend’s voice. Duh.
I get home and text all of the information to my friend who then calls and texts cable guy. Get this – no response. Cable guy does not respond and this leads me to believe cable guy is on to me and will most certainly be arriving in the dead of night to kill me and take my stuff. Or just kill me and pet Lloyd. (Lloyd never gets murdered in my paranoid imaginations cause he’s just way too cute and friendly.)
I again go into super lock machine mode and barricade the doors with random boxes and objects that will be loud if someone enters. Lloyd and I have a talk where I beg him to stop sleeping so damn deeply and be a dog who actually hears it when murderers enter our dwelling.
Upon waking I get a text that murderous cable guy got the information and said thank you. I also got a customer service call from the cable company checking in to make sure everything was good with my service and why yes they did see he needed the number and it was noted on my account.
Heh. Don’t I feel sheepish? But hooray! Am not getting murdered after all.
The moral of all of this is…moving sucks.
Have a great weekend!
Oh my goodness that was hysterical!!! I have to tell you Matt took out part of our uhaul van going through the Mcds drive through!!!
Thru! I mean
lol! omg that is hilarious!
LMFAO. You are a discombobulated mess.
Great stuff!!! I can't stop laughing, seriously. You have quite the paranoid and hilarious imagination. I'm glad he doesn't know where I live b/c I'm sure he'd want to come steal my bike at the very least.
Oh lady, I am glad I am not the only paranoid one! I had a similar issue with a process server. Normally, it's the sheriff's office that service papers and this guy apparently was independent with a NY phone number on the card he left on my door. I had just returned from vacation and called thinking what papers would he be serving me and also told him i was home. Anyways he was looking for some other woman but needed to come back and see my DL to confirm I wasn't the woman. He even went down to my leasing office to confirm who lived in my apartment when he left the card.
It was freaky as hell. Needless to say, I had one of my coworkers who knows how to background check people searching to make sure the guy wasn't a whack job. And I even called into the Sheriff's office and put them on alert in case something happened to me. I was super scared thankfully the guy said I sounded like a nice person and would take my word that I wasn't the woman he was searching for and didn't come by my house again. Months later I am still alive but I completely understand your paranoia. I can't say I wouldn't have freaked out too! You can never be too careful!!
thanks for being a paranoid freak with me Jess. lol!
LOL! OMG what the hell are shoes going to do blocking the door? Other than piss him off when he trips over one. I don't think I need to remind you that you most likely don't own a gun or sleep with a bat right?
I love it.
And next time tell your friend to introduce himself as: I'm BoB's friend and I have a gun and a knife but here are the numbers you need from the box.
I love it, but more hilarious is the U-Haul story. I could see it. You and I are cut from the same cloth. Live close enough to the richie rich's without being richie rich and then go out in sweats that have holes in them as opposed to sweats from Nordstrom's……ha ha ha!
Glad your still alive but stay on the lookout OK. If he calls asking to play video games then you are in trouble.
Whew! That was close. I was really hoping there was no murder. I couldnt handle it
Better safe than sorry! :-0
Cable companies suck everywhere!!!!
Funny how I was never paranoid about the cable guy or any other repair people when I lived in an apartment… but a guy showed up to sell me some meat (very random) on Friday and I didn't want to talk to him. Luckily Joey was home so I made him come up and talk to him… and then the meat guy came into our house to show us all the meat (that's what she said?) and we actually ended up buying said meat… so weird. At least he had a van with the logo all over it and a website (that looks legit). Still creepy and I worried that he was learning the layout of my house or something by being in my living room.
Cable Guy – Too funny. Still laughing.
Congrats on the move – I think.
I would so do this. I am 100% that paranoid. One time when my hubby was traveling for work (which thankfully he almost never does) I actually called a neighbor because a stranger rang my doorbell late at night and I wasn't expecting anyone. You're not alone.
Caaaaable Guuuuuy!
LOL, I would have come to the same conclusion about the cable guy. And yes, all cable companies suck like that!
Beth, Beth, Beth. I doubt there were any murderous intentions. Remember that cable guy is a guy. I can say, with 86.75309% accuracy, that he was trying to hook up with you.