So I come home from work early to see the subcontractors working on the house next door plugged into my house’s outdoor outlet for electricity while they install the garage door openers.
“Hey guys, that’s my house you’re plugged into. I really don’t mind, just ask first.”
“Sorry,” they say “the electrician said it was OK.” (I have a good thing going with the electrician, you scratch mine, I’ll scratch yours.)
“OK, just don’t make it a habit.” and I move on taking the dog for a walk out back in the woods. We get back and I walk to the end of the driveway to get the mail.
Umm… where’s the mailbox? We didn’t get any snow today so the plow couldn’t have taken it out. Back to visit the subcontractors. Hey, can I have my mailbox back too?
“Sorry dude, we only took some electricity, Hey, is that your dog across the street?” Sure enough, there’s Madison scratchin’ barkin’ sniffin’… at a pile of rubble.
Amidst the carnage is a box from HOSS. YOU ****! You must have a web cam trained on my stash because you hit my flavor profile dead nuts on. Padron, Vegas A, AF, RP Sun Grown, Torano. To top it off he reloaded the brass (same box) that I used to try to smack him. I feel so violated.
Thanks for the house warming HOSS.
