Most days I have my playbook in order and am ready for what happens. And other days I throw the ball up in the stands and expect someone in the cheap seats to run a touchdown. It didn't happen.
After going to bed with a horribly hurting back and taking some pain meds, I woke up today at almost exactly the crack of noon. I creaked and groaned, popped and cracked and groggily made my way slowly into the kitchen bent like a boomerang and feeling like an elephant sat on me.
Staggered back to my desk and found my Shiatsu massaging cushion. Fired it up and set it on pulverize and sat for a spell listening to my back make all kinds of noises that a back should never make.
Steph had an appointment so she left with Heath and left me to suffer in silence. I searched in vain for a wiring harness for the BlueOx. Figures I would have a one year only truck.
About 2pm I got a call from a woman in Charlotte about picking up a motorcycle that her son had brought home in pieces and she wanted it out of her garage. She said her husband would be there after 5.
I looked the address up online and saw a big house.
So when Steph came home and nuked me some food I made my way out to Christine with my thermos in hand and made my way north-east with the little trailer in tow.
On the way out I picked up my phone and called the woman’s number. It was a office.
Normally I make sure that I have a home or cell number, but being a bit groggy and sore I dropped the ball. We agreed that I would be there after 5 so I figured I was good.
Traffic was pretty light for a Friday evening and I made good time. When I got off of I-85 onto WT Harris all I could see was taillights. Several miles of them.
So using my knowledge of back roads I made the GPS mad by turning left. After a while the GPS rerouted me and I thought I was home free.
When it had me turn into an apartment complex I figured it would take me out the other side.
When I saw the apartments had garages I was concerned.
Sure enough when I arrived at the address it was a 3 story 12 unit building. I had no apartment number.
So I went door to door. No one knew the woman I was looking for. I was 9 for 12 on the door knocks which is a pretty good average. I was surprised that anyone answered since they were all women.
I mean if someone came to my house after dark who looked like me I wouldn't answer the door. \
I was amazed at how short everyone was. With my work boots on I am a good 6'5”. I don't think anyone who answered the door was over 5'5”.
I also noticed hwo different all the apartments were. One was spotlessly clean. One looked like a garbage truck exploded. One had brand new furniture. One had no fir nature at all. And one was cooking dinner and it smelled so good I almost invited myself in.
SO I went back out to the truck and looked up the ladies name online. IT gave her address as unit 104.SO I walked back to see which one that was. However the woman that called me was black and the woman in 104 was Asian.
As I walked back to the truck a black lady and her teenaged daughter got out of her car. I asked if she was the woman I was looking for and she said no. Then she told me she didn't know her neighbors because no one in Charlotte talked to each other.
Since I was killing time I stood and talked to them for about 30 minutes, and I can tell you her neighbors are missing out on knowing one sweet lady.
After this collosial waste of fuel and time I saddled back up and headed home. Made one stop for a bottle of liquid muscle relaxer.
Home, showered, and back to Shiatsuing again. Maybe the woman will call back, Maybe not.
Now if that guy in the stands can just run the ball toward the end zone a little bit.
Edited by mybigwarwagon, January 31, 2013 - 09:21 PM.