Called Blondie, who very considerately had left a message on her phone that she wasn’t home, she was at the mall but would be home by noon. Um..ok…so just tell every thief that your home is empty and to help themselves. Ok, call at noon – no Blondie and why am I surprised since . Blondie runs on Blondie time. I'm convinced that her watch has a 13 o’clock on it.
So I finally reach her at 2:30 (she'd just got home) and tell her about the ceiling fan attacking us. She responds with…oh you can go buy yourselves a new one. Um….no, not happening because last time we paid for a repair it took us 3 months to get reimbursed.
So then I mention AGAIN that it hit The Man, as in injured and that I’ve taken pictures. Does she ask how he is? Of course not.
Pursuing my advantage I mention that The Man *could* try to re-hang the old fan, but that I don’t think it’s a good idea because it is quite obvious that all the parts aren’t there and it was installed incorrectly to begin with and have I mentioned that I’ve taken pictures? Perhaps it was the mention of the incorrect wire nuts being a fire hazard and the naked wires and have I mentioned that I’ve taken pictures? Some how pictures must have finally percolated and transferred into lawsuit in that dim blonde mind because suddenly she has a new one that she will drop by this evening free of charge (to us) tho I know she has every intention of charging the owner for the fan as well as for The Man's labor (because I plan to deduct his labor from our next month's rent).
So Blondie is due to bring by the new fan and The Man will hang it, now if she can just manage to drive it to our place..*Sigh…...
football
