No, I'm Not Dead...Yet

And, thank you! to those who checked up on me.

Yeah, yeah.  I know I've been absent - not to mention absent minded - but I do have a few articles in the works, one of which deals with yet another appliance repair.  It will be a long one.  I promise.

Heh, heh.

In the meantime, guess who is back in town?  Murphy.

Oy.

Before he even landed things went awry:  On the way to his apartment, I stopped to get some groceries he would need for the evening, expecting to take him shopping on Tuesday.  While at the checkout, the woman before me purchases some items that were marked down except the scanner would not accept the discounted price even after several attempts by the cashier to correct the problem.  As this was taking too long, I waved off the customers gathering behind me to go to another checkout.

The problem with the scanner is finally solved.  Great, I thought since I was already running late and I only had a few items, I'd be out of there in no time.

I am so naive.

Apparently, the discounted price of the items was still wrong.  As the customer and cashier were haggling out the correct price, I am rolling my eyes at the people behind me and respectfully wave them off to another checkout.

The haggling continued for another five or so minutes.  At this point, I decided to heed my own advice and go to another checkout.  By the time I repacked my basket, the problem was sorted it out and I was next in line.  I proceeded to unpack my basket for the second time.  No worries, I thought to myself since I only had a few items and nothing that was marked down.  I should be out of there in no time.

Yeah, right.

It must be the mere fact that Murphy's impending arrival causes bad luck.  I had gone to the deli counter and got some sliced meat and salmon fillets, both of which were tagged with a bar code label by the deli department.

Not only did the the label for the ham get rejected by the scanner, but the label for the salmon fillets was also rejected.  After several attempts at the bar code for the ham, the cashier looks at me and says, "I'm sorry, this product is not in our computer", to which I responded with a look that said, "And how is this my problem?"

After another bout of haggling, this time between the cashier, some know-nothing price manager and - oh my gods - the 'override' button on the keyboard, I was in and out of that store in a half an hour:  10 minutes for gathering my goods; 20 minutes at the checkout, excluding the time for customer before me.

So, I get to the apartment, turn on the water, hot water tank, open a window, etc.  I rush back to my house for feeding time at the "zoo" which leaves me about 20 minutes to relax before I pick Murphy up at the airport.

Honestly, I thought his flight would have been delayed, diverted or - god forbid - downed, but it wasn't.  In fact, it was early!

Go figure.

So, after all of the grief and delays I went through Monday, it got me thinking that maybe it really isn't Murphy. It might be me after all.

Again, I am so naive.

About two hours after I drop Murphy off at his place, he calls to say that the toilet tank is leaking.

Profusely.

He's here until December 24th.


;-)

This Just In ... Just Closer to Home

I mentioned somewhere awhile back that a friend was visiting from Canada. He not only brought my coveted Caramilk bars, he also brought me the nastiest cold I've had in years. The cold is gone but I still have one chocolate bar left, so I really can't hold catching the virus against him.

This friend, who I will call Murphy (not his real name, but it ought to be), has the most unfortunate luck. Years ago on a straight stretch of highway that was void of any vehicles, animals, ice, snow or other obstacles whatsoever, he rolled his car. (WTF??)

When he travels by plane, he's the one guy security always pulls over to the side for the 'frisk' - this was happening long before the current security procedures were in place.

Then Murphy extended his vacation here by two weeks which put him about eight days over his visitor's visa limit. I explained that immigration is not in the habit of kicking tourists off of the island for staying longer than permitted but, nooooooo, he got paranoid (he's like that) and had me take him to immigration so that he could inform them. He filled out the required forms and, after an hour or so of waiting, they told him it wasn't necessary. I swear I heard snickering as we left the immigration office.

If shit is going to happen it'll probably happen to him, which brings me to my story - just another one of Murphy's adventures - or should I say 'misadventures' (damn, I hope he keeps a diary).

Murphy has a small condo unit here that is within a complex which is part condominiums and part hotel. The management has keys to all of the units in case of emergencies.

I get an e-mail from his mom a couple of days ago. Call Murphy. He's got a funny story to tell you, she says.

Murphy is, basically, the only visitor to the condo who smokes and, in consideration of the family members that don't smoke and who are coming down in January, he's strictly been lighting up on the balcony. He's been here for one month.

Did I mention that it got rather chilly down here about a week ago??

So Murphy goes out on the balcony for his morning smoke the other day. He closes the sliding glass door to keep the cold air from invading the apartment. In doing so, the security pole (broomstick) for the door falls into the track on the inside of the unit, barring him from opening the door more than three or four inches.

He's stuck out on the balcony.

He calls out for help, but there isn't another soul in sight.

Having no other available options and the fact that he is wearing no shoes and only a t-shirt (I didn't ask about his pants - I was laughing too hard), Murphy drops from the second floor balcony to the ground and runs around to the entrance of the complex if not to get help but, at the very least, to get warm.

Now, one would think that re-entering the apartment would be as easy as asking for the keys from the management office. Two locks, two keys. Simple, right?? But, nooooooo, Murphy - in his infinite wisdom - decided to latch the un-keyed dead bolt on the inside of the unit before he went to bed the night before and, since he hadn't yet left the apartment that day, it was still latched.

I did say before that he was able to open the sliding glass door about three or four inches. Well, as Murphy's dumb luck would have it, Chuck the security guard (his real name is Charles - really) and the gardener, Miguel (pronounced "Migwell" - really, I don't make this stuff up) had a ladder and, of all things, a pitchfork, respectively.

Murphy climbed back onto the balcony with the pitchfork and was able to 'MacGyver' the security pole out from the inside of the track to regain access to his apartment.

I picked up Murphy yesterday to take him shopping.  Before he got downstairs, I stopped by the security office to thank Chuck for his help. Chuck was on the phone at the time but, as soon as he saw me, he busted out laughing.  I mouthed a "thank-you" and headed out to the car.

Murphy leaves on the 23rd of December.  He was expecting his nephew to pick him up at the airport but, apparently, that isn't going to happen.  Murphy lives near London, Ontario. London lives, geographically, in a snowbelt.  His plane arrives in Toronto.  For those of you who are not familiar with the distance between these cities, this is a four hour drive on a good day.  It will be December 23rd.

Need I say more?