Musings from the old bald fart...

I guess one of the best things about being old is don’t hafta do things I don’t wanna do. Oh, sometimes a former client may call and say, “You did such a great and fantastically magnificent job inspecting my house for me—could you please do the same for my sister?”

Well, how can I resist. “Sure, have her call me.”

She calls and insists on Sunday, but “I’m sorry, I do not work on Sunday.”

“But it’s the only day I have off,” she pleads.

“Me, too,” says I. [Actually, I have almost every day off—being as I’m over 70*…]:D:D

Would Friday be available for you,” asks I…

“Sure!” she says. And we make the deal. [What happed to Sunday being the only day?]:-k:-k

*I have decided that I will stop counting at 70 because of a variety of reasons, but especially because it turns on the thirty-something beautiful ladies. You see, 72 says “elderly”—68 says “not quite there”—but 70! Now that says mature and wise. And being, as I am, exceptionally handsome—and virile—as well as wise and mature—well…:roll::roll:

Phone rang today. Now the caller obviously got the number from the phone book and is calling around for prices. I can tell for reasons I’ll not disclose here.

But his first question…8-

He had checked the Yellow Pages under **“Home Inspections”…**found my business name: Home Sweet Home Inspections…and I answered the phone, “Home Sweet **Home Inspections.” **My guess is…that I do home inspections.\:D/

And his first question was, “Do you do home inspections?”:roll:

“No, sir. This is a car-wash…we make keys and read palms and head bumps…” OK—I didn’t say that, but I thunk it.]#-o#-o

Turns out he lives in Kentucky, a licensed state. I’m in Ohio, an un-licensed state and can’t inspect in KY.

“Doesn’t Ohio have a license?” he asked.

“Not yet, but the legislature is working on it. Maybe soon.”

“When you get your license can come to KY?”

Now I realized it would be best to end the conversation as swiftly and gently as I could. However, I imagined how any further conversation might go…

“When you do an inspection, do you come to the house.”

“No…you have to bring the house to my office. It’s on the 15th floor of the Bloop Building and the elevators are out of order. Would tomorrow morning be fine with you?”

“That would be OK, I guess. What time?”

“How about 3:00am—if no one is there please wait.”]:roll::roll:

That’s the joy of being old—I can be crotchety, cantankerous, snappish, quarrelsome…sometimes all at the same time.:evil:=;=;=;:-;;

very nice, I know those callers

Hey Jae I’m “almost there” Do I HAVE to wait for a while or can I be crochety, cantankerous and all the rest right now?:mrgreen:

Why hell, Jae. If I’d a known how close to me such a crotchety, cantankerous, snappish, quarrelsome curmudgeon lived, I’da offered to buy him a cup of coffee a lot earlier.

I’m in Northern Kentucky a couple of times a month for inspections.

So during the presidential campaigning that is where they got the thing about if the phone rings at 3 am.

Damn, I’m crotchety, cantankerous, snide, churlish, quarrelsome, grumpy and snappish at 49, WTF will it be like at 70? It won’t matter, I won’t be able to remember 49 then, so I’ll think 70 is great too. ;-):D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

Call me when you’re there–I’m buying!!