Bring Me a Baseball Bat, Please - Part III
On second thought, get a rope. Then again, maybe I should reach out to some old friends from Queens. This qualifies as “a deserving to be hung out a window by the ankles offense”:
I had just brought my husband home from Red Lodge, where he had some blood drawn for labs. The Sugar Beet Baron wasn’t feeling right and had just laid down. I decided to check his blood sugar, to be sure that nothing else was going on. It was okay. The phone rang while I was reading the glucometer. For some reason, I picked it up.
Caller: Can I talk to the Baron?
Me: May I ask who’s calling?
Caller: John Doe.
(Who I do not know personally, but I know is an auctioneer.)
Me: May I ask what this is in reference to? My husband has been sick, and he is resting right now.
John Doe: I didn’t know that he was sick. I’m calling because I heard that your father-in-law and the Baron are selling the farm and all the equipment.
Me: This is the first that I’ve heard of it.
John Doe: Well, I’m with Dough Auctioneering and our business. . .
Me (interrupting): I just told you that as the Baron’s wife, I haven’t heard anything about selling. So, if you heard that my father-in-law is selling, maybe you should be calling him.
(This is when I hung up.)
*************************
A few hours later, I was in the yard, filling bird feeders. A Suburban pulled into the yard. An area realtor got out.
Me: The Baron isn’t up to company.
(Let’s not bring up the fact that you’ve never been company before.)
Realtor: Is he really, really bad?
Me: No, he’s really, really resting.
Then we lapsed further into the realm of the ridiculous. He asked questions as I answered them, wondering why we were having a conversation in the first place.
He went back to his Chevy and said, ” Oh, before I forget, I have something for you.” He handed me three sheets of paper that he’d printed off the internet - another cancer cure. I went inside before I threw it away.
********************
The next morning I decided to call John Doe.
Me: May I ask who I’m speaking with?
John Doe: This is John Doe.
Me: Good. This is Moos and I wanted to speak with you in regards to the telephone conversation that we had yesterday. I think that the conversation should have ended once I told you that my husband had been sick.
John Doe: I think that there was a misunderstanding. You don’t understand my business.
Me: No, I don’t think that I misunderstood. I think that if you couldn’t have ended the conversation I understood completely. You continued on, telling how “you heard that we were selling the farm and all the equipment”. I told you that I didn’t know anything about that, and you just kept right on going.
John Doe: You don’t understand my business.
Me: And then you have to tell me about “your business”. I do not live under a rock. I know who you are and what “your business” is.
John Doe: You don’t understand my business.
Me: I wasn’t aware that you drummed up business like a vulture.
(Hung up.)
**************
And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for. The letter from John Doe. Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Dear Mrs. Moos:
The purpose of this is to convey to you my sincere apologies for any offense you may have experienced with respect to my call on Monday.
I noticed a sort of general feeling of unfriendliness, and I knew that I must have done something wrong when I called. I will not even begin to give an explanation to what led up to my call, but I’d like to take this time to say I’m terribly sorry to you and the Baron. I would prefer speaking in person, but I sense that would not be of interest to you.
Let me assure you that what happened in your case is not typical of John Doe’s level of customer service. We continue to be committed to providing you and all of our customers with the highest standards of service in the industry.
If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to call me at ———–.
Sincerely,
John Doe
January 27th, 2006 at 10:25 am
Maybe you should report Mr. Doe to the Better Business Bureau. Or better yet share his address and we can let the little leech know what we think of his business practices.
I have a really old hard soft ball bat that you can use!
Sam’s Darling Wife
January 27th, 2006 at 11:49 am
Time for the pinkie ring folks to pay that jackass a visit. “Yo, Jackass, you don’t know our business.”
January 27th, 2006 at 12:39 pm
It’s amazing how the worms come out of the wood work. If it were me I’d be finding out who mentioned to him you might be selling. I smell a big rat. Go ahead and call brklyn we won’t tell. M
January 27th, 2006 at 2:00 pm
I’m thinkin’ you should put your DUMMIES guide in the local paper & on your answering machine!
(also see comment from PartII)
*hugs*
January 27th, 2006 at 2:18 pm
Bitch lesson number one:
Lean on your friends a little, but tell them exactly what you want from them (send dinners, do chores, listen or whatever). It isn’t easy but it is worthwhile for and for them.
Lesson number two:
Be blunt-don’t call us, we’ll call you.
I’m not surprised the vultures are out, I was through the other side last week and they have the most incongrous places are ripped to shreds for some magical get rich quick schemes.
Don’t worry about being too harsh. If they can’t or won’t understand you don’t want them in your life anyway.
Love granny
January 27th, 2006 at 5:21 pm
So glad you, two, are home!! There is something about being home, being on your land, breathing your own air, looking out over the stock, that can bring a great stress relief and healing!
SO I guess you forgot to put up the sign down at the end of the driveway.
Posted: Open season on Buzzards, Vultures, and two legged Weasels.
We shoot first, ask questions later. Enter at your own risk.
Private Property, No Trespassing! This means you!
On Answering Machine: Hello, the Baron and Moos are running around the house naked right now. Leave your name and number a very brief message. If we ever get dressed we’ll call you back.
Oh and to Mr Doe. You stupid A$$hat. She knows your business! It’s called commission! Duh!
(((hugs))) and prayers!
Dawn
January 27th, 2006 at 6:26 pm
Now we know why H. G. Wells last words were “Go away… I’m alright.” Probably to keep the vultures away.
“I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind.
Some come from ahead and some come from behind.
But I’ve bought a big bat. I’m all ready you see.
Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!” ~Dr. Seuss
January 27th, 2006 at 8:10 pm
What dirty thing! You need a bazooka, not a bat..if they call again, blow a whistle in their ear!
So glad you are home!
January 28th, 2006 at 4:33 pm
I love that Dr Seuss advise…I might need to print and hang that somewhere. Love and prayers!
January 28th, 2006 at 5:39 pm
Many years ago, I hade made up a sign, which I put up in the front window. It was a drawing of the business end of a .44 Magnum (”the monst powerful handgun in the the world, which would blow your head CLEAN off…”) with this sentence in 36-point type: “Never mind the dog…BEWARE OF OWNER.”
Unfortunately, I seemed to have misplaced said sign, or I would send it your way…
In the meantime, perhaps it might be a good idea to put on retainer the fine law firm of Capone, Corleone, Gotti & Soprano…
Kirk (never, ever, to be confused with Detective Harry Callaghan of the San Francisco Police Department, or of a former mayor of Carmel, CA)
January 29th, 2006 at 6:10 pm
Vultures, that’s what they are, Vultures. Have you considered a moat and a drawbridge - I’ll be happy to mail you a couple of alligators to stock the moat with.
January 30th, 2006 at 11:27 am
Oh - and you do know what John Doe did after I hung up on him the first time. . .
He called my father-in-law, telling him that I told him to.
February 3rd, 2006 at 6:03 pm
Rat, Vulture, Ugh. Is it legal to shoot critters like that in Montana. Poison bait maybe. The lowest of the low in human nature. At least you are not related to it. My brother is a piece of work too. Buying his 84 year old mom a car that his daughter needed to sell and that needed a $500 repair, paying too much for it and using his Power of Attorney to spend mom’s money for it. He is off on another trip and will not give us a contact number in case of emergencies. Sixth trip in 4 months. He even refuses to pay bills or anything now….I would use a bat but momma would not like it.
I have a 13 foot bullwhip you can borrow it has better reach than a baseball bat, cracks like a rifle and cuts to the bone. It would take a bit of practice to get the hang of it but you are welcome to use it. It is legal as far as I know but you need room to swing it. Montana has a lot of space. Run them off with that and the won’t come back. Not lethal but will get their attention. So sorry the low life is making it harder, stay strong and keep the vultures away.
February 4th, 2006 at 9:38 am
You could start making your own clubs for purposes intended or not, and sell them with the catchy name of “Belfry Bats.” ;=)
Just make sure the high school gets a cut.
Kirk (the dog refuses to allow her name to be attached to this idea–which shows she’s a smart dog)