Sunday, December 21, 2008

Strange Encounter

It is Friday morning and I am running a bit late, but not too badly. I am eating my second breakfast when I hear a horn honk right by the house. What?! My gate is shut, albeit not locked as I was supposed to have a propane delivery yesterday (that is another story, which is still in progress) and I did not lock the gate last night. I go over to the window and yell out at the guy in the truck. He asks is this *certain* address. I reply no and then ask him why he thought that coming through a closed gate was the thing to do. He asks me what my address is and I now get more snarly and tell him he is being rude, that coming through a closed gate is beyond rude and he had better to elsewhere right away. He then says that he is looking for that address because the bank now owns that house and he is the service that takes over the house. I tell him that he is still rude and that address is down the road a ways and to get off my place. He does. As I am leaving, stopping at the bottom of my driveway to lock my gate, I see him coming back down the road. Oh goody, I get to snarl at him some more. I wait until he is close & go over to this truck. I ask him what he would have done if I had not been home and he said he would have verified the address before doing anything. I told him that is good because if I ever come home to find a new lock on my gate, my animals removed and my house closed down, all hell will would erupt. He does look a bit taken aback at that, as if he has never considered that a mistake could be made. He then said that the GPS said that my place was the right address. I laughed and told him he needs a legal description out here, not an address as the addresses are not in numerical order much and that while his address should be where he was now coming from, it might not be. He then tells me the person's name (is this unprofessional or what) and the address again. I took some pity on him and told him to go back to the bank and get a legal description, then check with the county tax assessors office to find out where the place is actually located. And I'm thinking that once again I am telling someone else how to do their job,just using some sense.
However, yesterday afternoon, I repainted the numbers on my sign on my gate. Because a person never knows when the next idiot will be coming along looking to foreclose a house.

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