I Might Have Been Less Surprised If It Were A Midget Britney Spears Impersonator
The absolute last person I expected to see on my front door stoop was the lady that we bought our house from in 2006. She hadn’t exactly been overly kind or pleasant during our interactions at closing, but after having a party during our condo closing, I think I kind of hit the Apex of Awesome right there. So I tried not to judge.
I also tried not to judge as I sat with a putty knife and an econo-sized vat of Goo-Gone trying to chip off the pieces of 3, 3! different kinds of flowered wallpaper in our teeny first floor bathroom. I’ll admit that maybe I cursed her a whole lot after I realized that they’d applied wallpaper DIRECTLY to the drywall.
This was the bathroom I painstakingly remodeled for my 27th birthday. It looks NOTHING like this anymore.
*pats self on back vigorously*
Maybe I wasn’t overly pleased by her choices of I-Want-To-Kill-Someone Green as colors in at least 3 rooms of the house.
But I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I am certifiably colorblind* and perhaps I am the one who is wrong. Maybe the color is positively lovely, radiating goodness and light instead of making me want to ram my head through the wall. Or just any head, really. I’m not picky.
My dad was in the ICU post heart attack, I remember that day right before Christmas, and Alex was having his typical trouble sleeping. I’d finally gotten him down for his 2.5 minute afternoon nap and the sound of the doorbell made me nearly shatter my teeth as I ground them down.
I’d needed that 2.5 minutes, thankyouverymuch, and no door-to-door salesperson selling coupon books was going to make me happy about giving it up. The days leading up to this were hell and I had had absolutely zero opportunity to even begin to absorb the fact that one of the clots they’d found after the heart attack would have killed him instantly had it dislodged.
So, opening to door to find that the lady whose house I had bought years before–the house that I now owned–standing there was not exactly what I expected. A fleet of cross-dressing purple goats would have been less shocking. She was just one of those eminently forgettable people and, well, after I’d finished cursing her taste in wallpaper, I’d forgotten her entirely.
She walked in, the second I opened the door, no pomp, no hello’s, no circum-fucking-stance, she just pushed past me and walked in. I was too shocked and too Midwestern to respond with an, “I’m sorry, but pop off, lady.”
While I did recognize that she once owned this house, as I had seen the paperwork as I signed my life away, she hadn’t owned it in over 2 years by that point. Mouth agape, hanging in the breeze like a particularly human shaped trout, I just gawked at her. Daver was off somewhere else in the house (my guess would be either looking at horse porn or working, but it’s simply a guess) leaving me to deal with her.
“Did you get any mail delivered here for me?” She asked.
Still shocked, I replied, “I send all of your mail back, return to sender. It’s been 2 years. I don’t get much for you any more.”
Then she took a step backwards in my hallway and looked me up and down suspiciously. I’m sure that she saw the large bags under my eyes, the don’t-fuck-with-me turn of the mouth, and my shaking hands. It didn’t seem to dawn on her that maybe this wasn’t the best time to come over. Or if it did, she didn’t care.
“Are you suuuure you didn’t get anything delivered her? A friend was supposed to send me some money.” She continued sizing me up.
“I’ll check with Dave, but I’m the one who gets and sorts the mail. Anything that was yours would have been sent back.”
Dave had returned from Equus Lovers -r- Us after hearing the commotion, and I asked him if he’d seen any mail for her.
He hadn’t.
Again, she tested me like I was going to change my answer or something, and again, I told her no, absolutely not. It was obvious that she was beginning to suspect that I’d stolen whatever money had been in said envelope.
While I have been accused of being rude or tasteless, I am not a thief** and I never have been. Not, I should add, that someone who SHOULD have had her mail forwarded 2 years prior can really complain if she doesn’t get her mail…but still.
She stood there in my kitchen, uninvited and quite frankly unwelcome casting her suspicious eyes slowly back and forth between The Daver and I.
“Are you SUUUUUREEE you didn’t take the money?” She was starting to sound like a cross between my mother and an overzealous police detective.
Finally, I snapped, “NO!” I nearly shouted this, frustrated beyond belief and pushed to the end of my rope. The moment that Alex woke up, we had to go visit my father in the ICU and bring him the mini-Christmas tree I’d made for his room. No matter what the issue, using the phrase “visit my father in the ICU” never got easier to swallow.
And this bitch had the audacity to COME INTO MY HOUSE and accuse us of stealing money from an envelope mistakenly sent “from a friend” to my address of 2 years.
I don’t know if she was finally satisfied by my answer or realized that she’d really pissed me off, but she turned around and was off as abruptly as she came.
I’d have thrown the last scraps of her ugly wallpaper after her, but just then Alex started to scream. Looked like I wasn’t going to be getting any break after all. I gritted my teeth and marched up the stairs to collect my son.
Off to the ICU we went. Detailed sketches of elaborate poo flinging mechanisms I could use on her new house danced in my head as we listened to “The Little Drummer Boy” for the forty-fifth time that week.
*not being cute. Truthful. You may start feeling bad for my children….NOW.
**Okay, so I stole YOUR heart. And some hair picks once. When I was like 14.
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Gentle Reader, please, have you had anything you’ve been falsely accused of? Or anything as freaking weird as this bitch?
My boyfriend’s (now husband) friend’s girlfriend hated me from the very first moment I met her. Never did a thing to the girl. She was hell bent on believing that *I* had a “thing” for her boyfriend. Despite the fact I had been dating mike for 4 years. C-R-A-Z-Y!
Also? My realtor admitted to having a foot fetish at our house closing three months ago. Uh…right.
Bwahahahahaha! How do you recover from something like that? Seriously. Like, okay, glad that you have a thing for….feet? BLECH.
a coupla years back my step-dad worked for an insulation company. And he was doing some of our neighbours a favour by getting the work done for them on the cheap on his off time. During this period, my mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and unsurprisingly he decided NOT to worry about people and their insulation, cos you know, dying person and all. Well this one guy started dropping the MEANEST letters through my mum’s door. Calling us all the names under the sun. I controlled myself enough not to break his windows and popped round to explain WHY there had been nothing done, and ask him to stop leaving the notes.
Longest fortnight of my life later and we were organising the funeral and such and this guy turns up at the door DEMANDING to speak to my mother, who was as you might guess giving we were with the funeral director NOT IN A POSITION TO COME TO THE DOOR. The guy wouldn’t take no for an answer, and called me a lying whore. Standing there open mouthed I explained calmly that we were organising a funeral, he could stick his cheap insulation up his arse and then punched him in the mouth and knocked him to the floor.
There are many reasons to lie or make excuses, but this FREAK thought THAT was a good ‘un!
He was the only one in the street who didn’t get insulation hehehe. Nice black eye tho
Oh. My. God. I don’t know if I’m more horrified that this happened or that I’m not surprised. What an assbag.
I used to work in retail hell, and Christmas time is always a bitch in the months of November and December, and this particular year my staff and I decided to pass a vicious flu around several times. I was sick, and passed this lovely flu on to my daughter, 7 at the time, and soon to be husband. I got home from work late, we all took lots of medicine and went to bed.
At about 2:30 in the morning, Robin woke me up out of my medicated sleep, and tried to tell me that he heard someone downstairs playing the piano. I thought he was crazy, told him it was one of the cats, or our kid sleepwalking, and to go back to sleep. Of course, he went to investigate, and the next thing I know much screaming is going on downstairs, who the hell are you’s, what the fuck are you doing in my house, and such.
So downstairs I go, and there is a woman, about 50ish, drunk off of her ass, she had been playing church hymns on our piano, missing a shoe, and in my house at 2:30 in the morning. We called the police, and the responding officer was someone we knew, which was also a little weird, and they took her home.
They said we could have pressed charges, but I was really struggling with sending her to jail for serenading us with hymns, even at 2:30 at the morning, nothing was missing, and they checked her for stolen items, and she hadn’t taken anything.
She tried to say that our “friend” brought her there and let her in. She didn’t want us to call the police, um duh, and wanted another drink and a cigarette.
Easily one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to me. I still can’t believe it sometimes.
That alternates between being mega creepy and kind of funny.
when my parents lived in their house for several years, they got a knock on the door around 1am, my dad answered it and it was the previous owner….who was apparently still partying it up and remembered a stash of drugs he had hidden in the rafters of the garage, I dont know why but my Dad let him go look, and low and behold there was a stash of drugs somewhere in the rafters of the garage, my Dad asked him if he was sure he had collected it all, to which he replied, yep thats it…..and they never heard from them again. (I should point out that when they purchased the house, or rather took over the loan from the bank, it was obvious by some “decorating” choices that they were probably having a good ol’ time so I suppose it wasnt too shocking that they came back for drugs).
That is a GREAT story! I wonder if it was the gigantic marijuana leaf poster that gave them away.
My husband’s cousin called one night from the other side of the country asking if they could stay with us “for a little while” when they relocated to the east coast. We were in the middle of renovation hell – still are sort of – but family is family so we said sure. Didn’t hear anything from her for over a month and then suddenly there was an email saying they’d be arriving the week before Thanksgiving – about a month away. I tried to get the answers to a couple of what I thought were simple questions. Are you looking to buy a place when you get here? Are you looking to rent a place when you get here? Are you planning on staying in this town so you’ll be registering the kids for school here? And the most important question – How long are you staying. After a few weeks we realized that she never really did answer any of out questions with an actual answer. Finally I sent one final email and said that we really needed an answer to the “how long are you staying” question. The response was obviously vague and mentioned they were bringing their dog. We sent off a registered letter telling them they were no longer welcome to stay with us for “a little while” and the reasons for it. She called my husband the next day and was actually pissed off that we’d given her so little notice that we’d changed our minds. Come to find out, their house was in foreclosure, they had no place to go, all of her immediate family was fed up with them, and we were kind of a last resort.
Dude. Way to nip THAT in the bud. What a crappy situation you avoided. Seriously!
When I was in my teens, I was a manager of a fast food joint. (snickers, they put ME in charge, that just never stops being funny) So anyway, it was late and some woman came through the drive-thru, and was wearing bright pink rollers in her hair. The kid working drive up told me how funny she looked in her also pink robe and the rollers….being the not so mature teen I was, I had to get a look. I handed her the drinks she ordered with a big ole smile and went back to managing stuff. Well, after the kids gave her the food she had ordered, she asked to speak to that ‘little girl’*, when I came to the window she pointed her skinny little finger and said “You Little Bitch! Haven’t you ever seen anyone in curlers before!” ~Honest, I’m not a bitch. I just found it funny to see that bright pink robe and bright pink hair rollers late at night. It’s called humor~
Of course, I had a following of police officers coming through the drive-thru and word on the street had it that I was giving sexual favors on the prep table. Which was waayyy not true.
*To be fair, at the time, I was only 90 pounds and am 5 feet tall
I swear that everyone–EVERYONE–should work the service industry for awhile. I learned more from serving than anything else I ever did. EVER.
My husband and I rented a duplex from an older lady and had a ton of trouble with her. First after living there for a few months, she said she had not got the rent check. We immediately became suspicious after the check was mysteriously cashed with her signature on the back even while she was still claiming not to have gotten it! After we had decided to move out she came over and was telling me what great shape the apartment was in and how she was so glad that we always keep it so clean. After we moved out and into our new place she called to tell us she was disgusted that we would trash the place and was suing us for $5000!! We were shocked! She was suing us for a brand new top of the line stove because she said there was a small chip on the top of the old one, and to completely re-do all the cupboards and basically the whole kitchen and dining area because there was water damage under the sink!
Needless to say the crazy bitch didn’t win!
I held my breath until the end. I TOTALLY thought the bitch was going to win and I was going to be FURIOUS on your behalf.
No. I’ve never had anything freakishly weird happen to me. But we have been the freakishly weird thing that happened to others.
Back in the day DH used to compete in competition pistol & rifle shoots. He’d also occasionally host a friendly shoot at our house. So, one weekend day when we were going to have people over for some pistol shooting & BBQ he was walking around getting stuff together and had a Colt 45 strapped to his hip. He was out front (which is the back) on the porch examining a couple rifles when a car drove up. This very nice old couple got out of the car, walked over, saw this long haired hippy freak in tye dye with a pistol on his hip and 2 rifles in front of him, got this panicked look on their face, handed DH a bunch of lightbulbs and scurried back into their car as fast as they could go. They were on a recruitment drive from one of the nearby churches. The lightbulbs had a bible verse on them & the church address.
The Jehovah’s Witnesses that showed up a couple hours later never even came as far as the porch. No doubt intimidated by the pistol packing women sitting there waiting their turn at the targets over the hill.
This is pure brilliance and I may love you more than I did before.
My ex-in-laws accuse me of:
a) trying to ruin my ex’s career, and
b) keeping the children away from both him and them
They suck, but at least they’ve never shown up at my doorstep. Boo on that lady, what a see you next Tuesday.
They’re always so good at protecting their children, aren’t they? THEIR kids can’t do wrong, but WE can.
I was working for a contractor and we were doing a reno in an upscale neighborhood. Our clients were a plastic surgeon, who was never around, and his horrible bleach-blonde-fake-tits trophy wife, who was ALWAYS around, and who would tell all the guys on my crew that they could pay them in plastic surgery for their wives (yeah, ’cause everyone wants to look like you).
When we dismantled the old pool house, we removed all the existing insulation batts from the walls. It was in decent shape, and I confirmed that we were planning on putting it in the trash. My brother was insulating his garage, so after mentioning this to my supervisor, I gave my brother a call and told him that he could come pick up the insulation. My heart sang with the righteousness of reducing waste, reusing materials, and recycling karma, as my brother pulled up, walked into the yard, put the bags of insulation in the car, and took off.
About an hour later, the trophy wife called us (all the people working on the reno) together and started ripping into us. I was so humiliated that she felt the need to give ALL OF US a vicious and public lecture, and furious at her protect-all-my-fucking-riches-mentality. The way she said “we can’t just have ANYONE walking in here” made it sound as if MY BROTHER was some dangerous lunatic I had invited onto her property to ransack her possessions. “This is a closed community,” she ranted, when in fact it was a cul de sac in a residential neighborhood. It wasn’t a gated or patrolled compound, except in her tiny, paranoid mind. “We give all our recyclable or reusable building materials to building charities…” was her next claim. This was a complete lie – we threw everything else in the garbage.
During the rest of the afternoon, she would periodically come out of her mansion and point things out that were “not garbage” or “not to be recycled.” Like the shiny new hose, all coiled up and hanging neatly on the side of the house: “You see that hose? That’s not to be recycled.” Oh, really? Well that’s too bad, because I’ve already put the word out to my crew of unprincipled thugs and ne’er-do-wells that it’s open season on EVERYTHING IN THE YARD!! Because we drive older model cars, and therefore we must be POOR! And therefore DANGEROUS! Oooh, I hope they don’t have too much trouble BREAKING INTO YOUR CLOSED COMMUNITY. Yeah, we pimps is comin’ to steal yo’ hose, bitch!
This story has a sort of happy ending: the clients ran out of money half way through the reno, and so we left it half finished. I was working at another site by then, so I don’t know how it was left, but I like to imagine that it was with a giant gaping hole in the side of the house, and that the trophy wife couldn’t sleep, ever, for imagining what kind of untamed rabble could be ENTERING HER PROPERTY RIGHT NOW and TAKING HER THINGS. I also hope that she ruined everything she owned by taking a hammer and trying to nail it down. Including, for the sake of vengeance, her breast implants.
Well, that was years ago, and I’m surprised (am I really? Come on, now) at how much the retelling can still get my blood simmering, if not actually boiling the way it did when it first happened.
Thanks, Aunt Becky, for providing the opportunity for me to get this off my chest.
That must have been SO SATISFYING to leave the job half finished. You should know I did a little victory dance for you over this one. What a raging bitch!
Okay, in order of when my responses popped into my brain:
1) Ho-my-gawd, that bathroom is fugly!
2) We both need signs to hang on our doors, “If you wake my child(ren), you will be harmed.”
3) Some people have manners, some people have manners and choose not to use them (ahem… me), and some people take even the idea of manners and spank it harder than a freshman’s ass during Hell Week. Congrats! You met someone from column C.
I think that I’m going to put a sign on my door that says something to the effect of: “Please call rather than ring the bell. If you don’t have the number, go away! Once the babies get bigger, I’m cool if you come back. Give me a year.
Yes, I have been accused of something just as Crazy…My sister went on vacation when I was about 14 and came back to find her house robbed. She decided that I must have done it just because I had friends that lived in her neighborhood. Even after I was interrogated and cleared, and they caught the people that did it, she still to this day believes and tells other family members that I robbed her house. Maybe your crazy lady and my sister should become friends… they could work on conspiracy theories together.
**The only thing I ever stole was a piece of gum when I was 4 and my mom made me take it back and apologize.
We should SO get them together. They can hold SYMPOSIUMS on how we stole crap from them.
Now that I have a strange image in my head of the little lady from Poltergeist tormenting you in a bathroom covered with ugly wallpaper I have totally forgotten the question. Damned free association. Oh, oh yeah, falsely accused . . .
Sure, plenty of times, but usually by someone so clearly troubled and quite possibly off their meds, that I let it go.
Mostly, I feel sorry for her kid. THANKGOD she wasn’t my mother.
I think I am probably guilty of most of the things I’ve been accused of, although I always try and look innocent and all “Who? Me?”
Today I would dance for joy if a herd of cross-dressing purple goats popped in. It would be a marked improvement on anything I could organise on my own!
My problem is that I end up feeling guilty no matter how innocent I really am. And my face shows it. Good thing I don’t play poker, I suppose.
While in a dead end relationship (shoulda ended a year earlier at least) I went out with my sister, met a great nice hot guy. We hit it off right away and spent the night dancing and talking and sneaking off to make out…. Later we gave the guy (friend on the sisters boyf) a lift home, and my sister and I needed to use his loo. She did her thing first then me, I said goodbye to him and left. We didn’t even shake hands on the way out. Now while she didn’t see anything of what was going on that night she was abdolutely convinced that she saw us kissing on his doorstep and bitched at me about it the whole way home.
Bwahahaha! I wonder what she ACTUALLY saw!
DUDE! I totally had the previous owner of my house come back too! Except he was really scary and I heard stories about how he started shooting at another neighbor with a shotgun or something. So when he started banging on the door, I crawled (yes, crawled…I’m a chicken shit) to the corner of the door so there was no way he could see me. HAHA! He also wanted to know if we’d received any packages. I had given the packages to my neighbor who was still friends with him. Luckily it turned out to be more of a rucus with the other neighbor/victim of shotgun shooting/former friend holding said packages hostage from the guy.
And you might be thinking…what the hell piece of redneck woods do you live in? But I swear on my sweet Bailey’s that I’m not a redneck and I live in a fairly decent neighborhood!
Oh shit, I’d have crawled on the floor too! Damn!
My MIL once accused me of calling her stupid. Did I? HELL YEAH! Because she was blow drying her hair and when her arms got tired (like, every nine seconds) she would put the plugged in blowdryer in the sink (no counter space). Why is this dumb (like it ISN’T already!)? Because that’s the bathroom that the six little children were using to wash their hands on the alternating nine seconds that she wasn’t using the blowdryer.
She’s lucky I was being nice and only calling her stupid. Anyone else would have been blowdrying their colon.
Bwahahaha! Will you marry me?
Uh. Yeah, I’ve been falsely accused.
My mom refused to believe my brother had molested me for 7 years even though he admitted he’d done it once (I guess once wasn’t bad in her eyes). She said I was a liar and was trying to wreck my brother’s life. But hey, that’s a story for Violence UnSilenced, right?
I was accused of being an internet troll by the group of twin moms with whom I’d been friends for a couple of years, through our pregnancies & our kids’ first year of life. Why? Oh, because I said my son was diagnosed with autism & no one believed it was possible because he was so young (13.5 months). Now he’s almost 8 and still autistic, of course. Why the fuck would anyone lie about something like that, anyway? Yeah, I know some trolls do, but (funny thing here) I’m not a troll.
I was accused of lying when I shared online that my twins were having brain surgery on the same day. I personally thought that fell under the “too crazy to be a lie” category, but there were some who thought I was being manipulative and seeking attention (perhaps they were related to my mother). After the twins had their surgery, I posted a whole album of pictures showing them pre-op, with their neurosurgeon, in PICU, on the main pediatric floor & at home. Oh, and I showed their incisions, too. Either I’m really fricking good at photoshopping (I’m not ~ don’t even know how to do it) or they actually had surgery just like I said they did.
Aside from my lousy mother, most things I’ve been falsely accused of surround the oftentimes-unusual medical circumstances of my kids. I understand people’s suspicions, but it does get old after awhile.
I fucking hate people sometimes. Seriously. This makes me want to stab everyone. You’re HARDLY a troll.
Crazy Mom at our school told a teacher yesterday that her son was upset because the teacher made him sit down. He thought he should be allowed to stand all day if he wanted to.
Outcome? still pending.
BTW, last year this same mom was upset because I gave her oldest son demerits for always running in the halls. She told us he didn’t understand rules.
She said that my rule “respect youself and others” wouldn’t work for her (oldest) son, because [at 11 years of age] he [is so special that he] doesn’t understand what respect is. He also doesn’t understand what sit down means. I was supposed to tell him to ‘sit with his bottom on the seat and his feet on the floor with his head up and his hands to himself’.
Heaven help us when this kid gets behind the wheel of a car.
He apparently also doesn’t understand “keep out” because we found him in the school’s fuse boxes/electric system. I suggested homeschooling to Mom. That ticked off everybody.
But that’s what she ended up doing when he hid his school books from her. twice. She bribed her other (4) kids with $5 to tell her where the books were.
Now this child is in middle school. it’s going to be an interesting year for mom. At least her time will be split between two schools. 🙂
Among many, MANY other reasons, the parents are absolutely going to always keep me from teaching. That and because I hate kids.
But shit, I have a TON of respect for teachers. They–like nurses–deserve a special place in heaven.
Oh my good lord, I would’ve tripped her at “Hello.”
I honestly can’t remember — I’m sure like above my ex’s gf blamed me for a host of stuff (as big as atheism, as small as his haircut), and I’d HATE to think what my IL’s blame me for. Heh.
Oh, I can imagine the laundry list that Nat’s new girlfriend accuses me of. I’m sure I’m The Devil.
Because, well, I totally am.
Tell me you at least slammed the door in her face to leave no doubt in her mind that she sucks as a person?
And then you also got the envelope the next day and kept the money, right?
Bwahahaha! I wish. I never knew what the hell she was talking about. What “friend” who sends you money doesn’t have your address of over 2 years?
I was once told it was my fault that a friend was pregnant…
Once there was a bird in my locked apartment…
Oh and once I was accused of sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend when I was IN ANOTHER STATE. (He was in NY and I was in California that weekend)
Oh, hell, I can’t think of anything except the time I was staggering down the hallways at school in tenth grade, literally bouncing off the walls (only I didn’t know it at the time).
I got hauled into the office by the big, fat algebra teacher that hated me because I blew smoke in her face one time in the girls’ bathroom when she, the biggest smoker of all, was on monitor duty and was pounding on the stall door and looking under the door, screaming, “Miss Ebola, I know you’re smoking in there, and you are going to be suspended.”
Yeah, the principal loved me, and I didn’t get suspended, so she figured she had me this time since I was obviously drunk or on serious drugs because I couldn’t even walk. The principal, my biggest fan, wasn’t in the school at the time, so the fucktard secretary called the police and my mother at her school, pulling her out of class to be told that I was on drugs and the cops were on their way.
The principal came back into the school just as I was being given sobriety tests and failing miserably. He demanded to know what was going on, and the big, fat algebra teacher and the fucktard secretary informed him that I was drunk. He smelled my breath as I rolled my eyes. The even bigger fucktard cop said that it had to be LSD or something much stronger than alcohol and suggested I be brought to the ER to have my stomach pumped. The school “nurse” concurred.
So, off I went to the ER with my principal and my police escort. Not a bad way to go to the ER, btw, since they take you right away. They took my vitals, questioned me over and over about what I took, sucked my blood, and just as my mother was screaming at me for her having to leave school for her drug addict daughter, the ER doc looked in my ears and found that I had a massive inner ear infection that was throwing off my equilibrium.
Yeah, I didn’t gloat too much (except to the fucktard cop), since I’d gotten away with being wasted in school dozens of times and had planned on getting away with it many, many more times in the future.
I had a really good friend who I couldn’t see for years because his wife hated me. This guy’s a doctor and his then girlfriend thought I was being seductive when actually I was being stupid. We had this conversation where he said (or I thought he said) he’d been on a neurology rotation, and I’m all “that’s so cool” and “did you get to put your hands in” and “did you get to touch it” and “did you get to cut it” and “isn’t that the most amazing and coolest thing” and then it turns out he was on a urology rotation. Ouch.
Easy mistake to make, though, right? Neurology-urology. Not the kind of thing I would be flirtatious about in front of his girlfriend either.
So TWO years go by, and then she comes back, looking for money she was expecting from a FRIEND?
What friend would she have had that owed her money that would have sent it in cash AND not known that she moved? Bitches get crazy when they don’t have enough money for their weekly manicures, huh?
If anything I ever got is still being delivered to my previous address two years later, it’s because whoever sent it doesn’t need to know where I am, and I am more than happy to leave it at that.
The saddest thing about our home is that we still get stuff from the IRS for the two. They’re both dead, but the government still wants their money. I’d like to see how that ends up working out.
I always have this fear that I will have the same thing happen to me that happened to my sister. Buy an older home because it’s a really nice house, but needs some work done to make it look good. A year later, have the previous owners show up and demand to know why you would buy a house if it isn’t what you wanted to begin with. I am so not kidding. SHE REPAINTED THE WALLS and got rid of wallpaper borders. My sister, ever so not the refined type, told them where they could shove it, and informed them they could get the fuck out of HER home.
That bathroom isn’t as bad as mine was. Old bluegreen shag carpet, matted down, that had been glued over linoleum from the 50s, with some 1970s style disco wallpaper… the old kind, you know, with some sort of fibers to make it stronger and almost cloth-like? Yeah, the expensive kind, but hideous. And both the folks were heavy smokers, so we had dribble stains from water on the walls, too. Cabinets painted a kind of aqua. Rot in the floor next to the toilet, because a home to anything with a penis should not have carpet in the bathroom. I cannot describe to you the smell I endured while taking it out of there. The glue for the floor and the wallpaper were both so old and dried out that it peeled right up. The carpet was run up the sides in lieu of trim for about six inches, and a giant mirror hangs from the wall with portrait hangers drilled into the plaster. Every single inch of it screamed “one-piece polyester leisure suit with clip-on tie”. There are sconces that really belong on the outside of a haunted, decrepit house on either side of the mirror, and the ENTIRE ceiling is full of fluorescent lighting. All that lighting in there, and they couldn’t see how hideous the decorating in there was.
I have pictures somewhere, but the house came with curtains I had to wash – http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b363/mrscoble/11MAY2007004.jpg
Here we go – the list of images from the bathroom before I started working on it:
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b363/mrscoble/02MAY2007006.jpg
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b363/mrscoble/02MAY2007005.jpg
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b363/mrscoble/02MAY2007004.jpg
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b363/mrscoble/02MAY2007003.jpg
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b363/mrscoble/02MAY2007002.jpg
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b363/mrscoble/02MAY2007001.jpg
So see, there are more hideous things in life. I don’t know what the hell they were thinking when they spent good money on that paper. Or what the hell the manufacturer was thinking when they made it.
Ugh! That isn’t wallpaper, that’s wrapping paper they somehow glued to the wall… Bless your heart!
I once had an ex boyfriend admit to rifling through my underwear drawer when we were kids. I didn’t believe him until he was able to tell me about other stuff I kept in that drawer that were NOT underwear and socks. After he told me that, I had to admit to stalking him, but he didn’t really accuse me, as in, he had a problem with it. But it was weird to hear after 20 years that he’d been sniffing my drillies.
Oh yes. Once a woman in a van stopped in front of my house and slowed down and then stopped. She had spied my cat, Bob, a Manx. Now please know- I had been present at the birth of Bob. His mother was my cat, Maxie, and she had Bob and his siblings in our linen closet.
Anyway, this woman gets out of the van and grabs Bob and INSISTS that this is her long lost cat. BUT WHAT HAVE WE DONE WITH HIS TAIL????!!!
She was practically hysterical, just beside herself. We had her cat and we had cut off his tail! No matter how much I tried to explain that no, this was my cat Bob who was born without a tail- AS GOD WAS MY WITNESS!- she just refused to believe it. Finally, her mother, who was in the van with her, calmed her down and got her back in the van.
They drove away.
I am still thinking about this.
There are some crazy people out there.
One silly accusation (at a young age): I was sent home from 1st grade because my teacher wouldn’t believe me when I said the mosquito bites covering my entire body were NOT chicken pox.
And home invaders: the day after breaking my rib (unrelated), on my walk to the hospital, I swung by the police station to file a larceny report. Turns out, my roomate had a couple friends spend the night and they went through my mail, stole my credit card checks, and tried to cash them. Alas, she had left the country and her mother didn’t even know where she was.
Crazies.
I have a sticker on my front door that says the following:
Solicitors
Knock at your own risk.
This household charges $20 per minute paid in advance to listen to any sales pitch, religious talk, or why we should vote for your candidate.
No exceptions.
If you don’t plan to pay.
DON’T KNOCK!
Works awesome. Probably wouldn’t have prevented the particular brand of crazy you had at your door…
I am WAITING for the day that someone who worked on my house shows up, I’m keeping something heavy by the door so I can beat them to death.
Thank you and have a nice day.
Ok. Too much sun today…
The “Thank you and have a nice day” is actually at the bottom of the sign…
And not some retarded send off to you.
The toilet seat gave you splinters, didn’t it? 😉
gaaah! what a crazy lady.
Jebus, your comments are like blogs themselves! Nice work people!
Gentle Readers, I mean.
I’m drunk (and a parent – judge away) so I have no f’n clue what I planned to say.
so, um, HI.
What makes the world go round? Vodka. What do you want for breakfast? Vodka. What is 2 + 3? Vodka.
Nothing as weird as that psycho bitch but I have been falsely accused of something. I had posted some pics of onesies I had tie dyed and someone I considered a friend asked me if I would tie dye some baby shirts for her dogs (WTF?) and she offered to pay for them. I, of course, said yes and got right to it. Shortly thereafter, our life went to hell in a handbasket in a spectacular fashion (and this so called friend new all about it) and, when my kids managed to spill something on the tie dyed shirts, I didn’t have time to re-dye them. I called her up and told her what happened and that I was paypalling the money back to her. Now, I don’t know about you but I don’t hover over my computer making sure everything goes perfectly. I also don’t have my email automatically download given that I have children (not all of my email is children friendly). So, I had no fucking clue that the paypal transaction hadn’t gone through. Instead of calling me and asking me to check on it, she emailed me and accused me of stealing her $20 and also sent the emails to a fellow friend who was the moderator on our cross stitch board. I have many flaws but being a thief and willfully deceiving and cheating a friend are not among my flaws. Question many things about me but NEVER, EVER question my honor. I promptly paypalled the money to her again, dutifully hovering over the computer to make sure it went through. Then I fired off a scathing reply that hopefully made her feel like the shallow backstabbing bitch she was (also copying our mutual friend) and cut her out of my life completely.
she does sound crazy… but in her defense (ack!) the wallpaper on the drywall isn’t her fault… it’s the builder. They did the same thing in my house and I’ve talked to tons of people with the same complaint. I couldn’t figure out why they had painted over wallpaper in so many rooms. Until I tried to take some off myself. Bastards.
But the accusing you of taking her money? and coming in uninvited? Totally her fault.
by the way, fun new design
I suppose the most outrageous thing (involving stranger) that I can think of was when I was book-keeping for a major grocery chain around my freshman year in college. The store manager was busy B.Sing with a vendor when the armor car showed up for the cash exchange/order. Since I couldn’t seem to drag the store manager away from his in-depth conversation with the chip vendor on the store overhead speakers, I had to leave my packed register to take care of the “armor” man so the store would actually have operating cash and he wouldn’t leave (because yes, they are on a very strict schedule). At any rate, the customer in my line (the light was off before she got there) decided to complain…of course by the time I finished with the armor company and got her checked out the manager was availble…that I was racist. I honestly don’t think this is anywhere near truth as I teach my own children to look at everyone the same (no matter if they are a different color, language, diablity, or anytihing else) and have friends of many different races.
Some days I just have to wonder “Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning”
Sadly, never really falsely accused. I did most everything I was accused of doing, though there were times I wondered if I had been falsely accused if anyone would believe me simply because of the fact I had been guilty so many times before. But not of stealing. According to my shrink that was just a phase. Like the fire thing. *shrug*
I suppose it’s better if you actually did it, right?
I’ve been blamed for and accused of many things during my life. Most of which I promptly forgot about because, well, why bother? The rumors about me were much more interesting than I really am so it was kind of exciting to hear what I’d been up to on a particular weekend and amazing how I also managed to read three paperbacks at the same time. Yes, I am that good. The weirdest thing that happens these days is people showing up trying to leave animals. I have what I guess you’d call a small farm. We raise a lot of our own food (no, I ain’t no tree hugger… I just prefer the superior flavor of homegrown beef and fresh milk from the goats). It seems every time someone in a hundred mile radius has something they want rid of they haul it to my house. I used to politely refuse but when nearly all of the animal dumpers get mad because I won’t let them unload I started meeting them in the driveway telling them to turn their asses around and haul whatever it is somewhere else. These people start yelling at me “You have all these animals. Why won’t you take these?” Shit! You have the nerve to YELL at me because I won’t let you dump your unwanted animals on me??? Just yesterday an old man with a truckload of rabbits showed up and said he was ‘getting out’ of rabbits so he brought them to me. I have no idea who he was or how he found his way here. I sent him and his bunnies packing. I’m seriously considering a corncob pipe, shotgun and jug by the rocker technique. If they think I’m crazy maybe they’ll leave me alone. Yes, I love my animals and I take very good care of them. I feel bad for the animals that go back down the driveway with what are obviously not so caring people but I can’t take care of all of them and I wish people would stop showing up expecting me to.
That’s INSANE. I cannot believe people would just drop their animals off with you. Mental note: when it’s time to get rid of Auggie…
I can’t remember being falsely accused of anything all that bad, but my husband has been questioned in a murder case (it turned out to be a drug overdose case in an overly zealous police department) once and once he was accused of stealing a 5 ton reel of cabling – when his only transportation was a corvette – they thought he totally strapped that sucker on the roof or something. Goobers.
I am pretty sure that your life is well more interesting than mine.
Man, I had just as much fun reading the comments as I did reading your post. I can’t remember anything quite so funny happening to me though.
Umm…. once in university I met a couple of guys and one of them asked for my number. I never heard from him but I did hear from his girlfriend who accused me of all sorts of things like trying to lure him into my sex den or some such thing.
She was so outrageous that I was actually laughing on the phone and told her in no uncertain terms that perhaps she should be yelling at her boyfriend for asking for my number rather than me for innocently giving it to him.
If you have a sex den, will you lure ME in?
It happened when I was eight. I was in Camp Fires and was selling candy bars to raise money for summer camp. Every day I went door to door peddling caramelos and krispy rice chocolate bars. My mom always knew I was meanering through town. We were in a relatively small town and in the better part of town, so it wasn’t like to today where everyone feels like everyone else is a homicidal pedaphile.
Anyway, I was walking down the street with my box of candy bars when a police officer pulls over in his car and says “little girl, your mommy sent me to get you.” Yeah. So this is just as the whole “stranger danger” campaign began and the video they showed at my school showed a a creepy old man driving up to a little girl and saying those EXACT same words. So my brain processed that he was here to kidnap me. I turned around and ran as FAST AS I COULD. But that sob chased me down, tackled me and carried me back to the car. I was screaming as loud as I could, and kicking and biting him. I was horrified that I was making eye contact with people driving by, and they just kept on going. I couldn’t believe that no one was stopping. Once we got to the car he put me in the cage and called me in.
After he radio-ed back to the station, he realized he had picked up the wrong kid. Not wanting to deal with me anymore, or face my parents I guess, he dropped me off about half a mile away from home. I was shaken to the core. I remember I had to sit down for a while and just cry and cry. I would walk for a little ways and then sit and cry some more. I finally made it home and was able to explain it to my mom, who made some calls.
There really was a missing girl that day in my town. She exactly matched my description, right down to the green shirt and denim skirt. The police officer had to come over and apologize to me personally, but it was a really shitty, traumatic experience for an eight year old to go through. The other girl? She had walked to her grandma’s house and forgot to tell her mom before she left. Something she did often but usually told someone first.
Kind of a false accusation?
Wow, I love all the commenters and the new layout! (Am I totally late in getting to this entry? Did everyone else already know about the change?)
I’ve never been accused of anything strange that comes to mind, but now I wonder what would happen if the old owner of our house showed up. We still get mail for her sometimes, and once it was something that looked like a retirement account statement or something. I worry that she’s not getting important things. But I worry about everyone. When I was living alone, I once got home from work to a voice mail from the local elementary school, telling me that my daughter was still in school and hadn’t been sent home on the bus for some reason. I immediately called the school back to let them know that whoever they’d been trying to reach, it wasn’t me; I was without children or spouses or anything needier than a cat. I still hope that little girl got home okay.
Well, that was off topic.
I can’t believe the people who show up at my house in the early afternoon, and when I say, “I have a house full of sleeping kids,” they continue on with their loud list of things they think I should buy or believe or vote for. Maybe I need to try a sign too!
It happened when I was eight. I was in Camp Fires and was selling candy bars to raise money for summer camp. Every day I went door to door peddling caramelos and krispy rice chocolate bars. My mom always knew I was meanering through town. We were in a relatively small town and in the better part of town, so it wasn’t like to today where everyone feels like everyone else is a homicidal pedaphile.
Anyway, I was walking down the street with my box of candy bars when a police officer pulls over in his car and says “little girl, your mommy sent me to get you.” Yeah. So this is just as the whole “stranger danger” campaign began and the video they showed at my school showed a a creepy old man driving up to a little girl and saying those EXACT same words. So my brain processed that he was here to kidnap me. I turned around and ran as FAST AS I COULD. But that sob chased me down, tackled me and carried me back to the car. I was screaming as loud as I could, and kicking and biting him. I was horrified that I was making eye contact with people driving by, and they just kept on going. I couldn’t believe that no one was stopping. Once we got to the car he put me in the cage and called me in.
After he radio-ed back to the station, he realized he had picked up the wrong kid. Not wanting to deal with me anymore, or face my parents I guess, he dropped me off about half a mile away from home. I was shaken to the core. I remember I had to sit down for a while and just cry and cry. I would walk for a little ways and then sit and cry some more. I finally made it home and was able to explain it to my mom, who made some calls.
There really was a missing girl that day in my town. She exactly matched my description, right down to the green shirt and denim skirt. The police officer had to come over and apologize to me personally, but it was a really shitty, traumatic experience for an eight year old to go through. The other girl? She had walked to her grandma’s house and forgot to tell her mom before she left. Something she did often but usually told someone first.
Kind of a false accusation?
To this I would like to add that I went out later that day, and everyday thereafter, and exceeded my fundraising goals. I raised over $400!!
And I have a profound repect for police officers in general and what they do for our communities. Even though I know there are a few bad eggs. I’m not bitter about this, and it usually makes me laugh to think about it.
I just have to say that the picture of the bathroom makes me feel anger. Like, I can’t explain it. I honestly don’t think that I could relax enough to do my business in there.
I’m sincerely convinced my next door neighbor is a male-prostitute of the gay variety.
When he first moved in I thought maybe he was just a pot dealer or (politely) a massage therapist. Until I noticed that all his “friends” were men of a certain age and socioeconomic class and that the appointments started at 8 or so in the morning and ended around 11 in the evening. No dealer keeps a clientele so clean looking and no back-beater keeps such a long schedule.
I have decided he must be operating some sort of “rub-and-a-tug” kind of joint.
Sometimes people come knocking on my door thinking it’s his and look awfully surprised when I open the door, sometimes wearing an apron, often with a glass of wine in my hand, staring at me as though I’ll magically change from being a 20-something female into a 40-something male. Hasn’t happened yet, but you never know if they keep staring like that…
THERE’S SOMEONE LIKE THAT NEAR MY PARENTS HOUSE! It’s a WHOLE HOUSE of guys. Weird!
GRRR!! Yesterday, I was at the park with my husband and 2 kids for a party and we had to use the bathroom so we went to the Goodwill around the corner. When we walked into the bathroom stall we saw a wallet and I was excited! I said to my 6 year old-“Look a wallet,lets go give it to the casheir so that who ever lost it will be happy that it was found.” A great lesson for a 6 year old,right? After we used the bathroom we were accosted by the 20 something girl and her boyfriend. The girl was SHRIEKING “There was money in this wallet!!!” I explained to her that we found it and took it straight up to the counter and she was SCREAMING “I dont believe you!!” My Daughter was shaking and totally freaked out. People around us were saying “if she took your money would she really turn your wallet in?” Yeah,duh. The boyfriend ,mean while was saying FU,FU,FU. NIce. Finally I said “ASSTURDS!” (mature,I know,but freakin seriously) and took off. I mean, what do you say to your kid after that? I am going to start carrying and USING mace from now on.
That’s awful! What a terrible thing that those people did to you. Sometimes I hate people.
A lady, (and I use that term loosely) in a drunken fit, accused me of having testified against her in a custody hearing. I had never met her before that night, but if I ever get the chance to be a witness against her in the future, I will. Or I would if she didn’t outweigh me by fifty pounds.
That is creepy shit, yo. Did you run like hell?
You should click over and see how the puppies renovated MY bathroom…
Girl, you know I will. Rufus is my MAN.
I like the new look. Darker and creepier, just like, uh, I like the new look.
Also? That woman’s behaviour seriously reminds me of my aunt (no joke) and if I didn’t know she was too stupid to own a house, I’d think you were writing about her.
Bwahahaha! Glad that you like it.
When I was a cashier in college, I was accused of giving a woman change for a $10 instead of the $20 she claimed she had given me. I was working in the college bookstore. Her granddaughter was with her, a fellow student. They counted my till, searched me, everything. I was right, she was wrong, and my boss believed me, but she never backed down and he wound up giving her $10 from my till. Her granddaughter was clearly embarrassed. The woman was looking at me like I was a lower class of citizen. I cried. It sucked.
I hate her to this day.
I remember this sort of thing happening to me when I worked as a server. I ALWAYS felt terrible no matter if it were my fault or not.
I had nearly the same thing happen with the idiot I bought my house from! She was constantly getting mail there and, while I was renting the house from her I would send it off with my rent check each month. Last year at Christmas time she called my cell asking if I had received a package for her. Now, while I still own the house, I do not live there so I had no idea and told her this. I called the current tenants and sure enough she had a Fed-Ex envelope waiting for her! More than four years after she moved out of the house her RELATIVES were still sending crap to her there! Of course this is the women who asked me if I had turned the AC to cool when I called to tell her it was blowing hot air!!!
Wow. Who doesn’t forward their mail promptly? And WHY NOT?
Let me preface this by saying that I am lactose intolerant. Back in college, so intolerant that if I even looked at anything dairy without taking a Lactaid, I’d have the runs and cramps for hours. Now, thankfully, it’s slacken a bit, but I’m still unable to partake of ice cream. You may now cry for me.
Anyways, whilst living in a three bedroom apartment with 4 other girls (and a random boyfriend who didn’t pay rent and got drug lords to come pounding on our door at 2am in the morning) I was sitting in my room, on the computer, chatting or something. I hear a knock. It’s my roommate. She starts yelling at me for stealing her cheese.
I can’t even get a word in, as she’s so angry. Turns out someone ate it out of the fridge. And it MUST have been me. Since I was the only one home.
Can’t explain to her that there is no way I would steal her freakin cheese.
But whatever! Lovely!
I had an old boss who used to routinely assemble a team meeting to discuss missing cheese. I shit you fucking not. I’d have laughed, but he might have suspected me and my Black Market Cheese Store.
(I don’t like cheese)
what a strange woman! & i HATE people that just waltz on in ur door uninvited….grrrr!
Had I been in ANY better shape mentally, I would have ripped her a new pooper. That was not cool.
Dude, what a bee-eyech. Shit like that happens to me all.the.time. like, too many times to recount a horrid tale about it. Maybe all the freaking nutcases are in the Midwest. Including yours truly, but at least I know I’m nuts. Knowing is half the battle, right?
I think you should throw bologna in the fake flowers at her new dwelling place.
Mox
P.S. LOVE the new look, though I never saw the old one…
Fake flowers and bologna. I love it!
I’ve never been accused of stealing anything from the guy that used to own my house, BUT…
About 2 years AFTER we bought our house, at 6AM, the State Police knocked down my door and raided my house. Scaring the SHIT out of a very pregnant ME! Turns out, the guy we bought the house from? His son was the one that lived there. HE was a convicted felon.
I found out from the nice policeman that BROKE MY FRONT DOOR DOWN, that the guys son had missed his last 3 appointments with his Parole Officer and was considered AWOL, or whatever.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the STATE POLICE, paid for my shiny new front door. THE END.
I was falsely accused of not putting the dog in her crate this morning, so when hubby came home she bolted out the door! Imagine that!! I did put her in her ctare this morning, but I may have failed to latch it properly. Either that or she has mad door-opening skillz.
Holy shit. I cannot believe the nerve that some people have!
Shit, I’m just glad I’m not related to her. Can you IMAGINE being her child?
Okay, here are a few things that came to mind- 1. WHY would someone send cash through the mail? 2. The lady that we bought our house from left a BUNCH of stuff here, like fake flowers, wall sconces, velvet wallpaper, and fake bird cages hung over the bath tub, but she came back looking for a little tiny chalkboard that hung on the wall in our kitchen. I’ve been accused of a bunch of stuff, but the ones that stand out are:
I was accused by my former boss (I worked for her for 10 years) of FAKING that I needed to go do weekly NST tests and ultrasounds during my complicated pregnancy (she was always bitter with every pregnant person who worked there, because she couldn’t get pregnant). Finally, I just quit and went on maternity leave early.
The other one, still hurts. My son Alex, who was six at the time, was accused by a drunk family member of trying to DROWN their kid because he told him to swim out to where he was and he would ‘catch’ him (they were playing together in the pool, in the shallow end, where this kid could TOUCH the bottom and he was wearing a life jacket). I got all up in his face and told him that he could fuck off because my son is SIX, and he is trying to play with your bratty kid in the pool, and have him swim to him like he’s seen adults do…what the fuck ever. It killed me.
Who the hell fakes NST? They’re not like FUN or anything!
We had neighbors who seemed okay but came back a year after they had moved and demanded all the doorknobs and showerheads from their old house.
The ladies we bought our house from are completely insane. They are using our info (address and phone numbers) to give to their creditors, keep their kid in the zoned school (we got her report card), etc. We have had the repo man at our house several times because they did title loans with false info that they didn’t pay back. One creditor was calling 15-20 times a day because they didn’t believe us when we told them we weren’t who they were after. We finally gave them the ladies realtor’s number and they quit calling. I actually got a call to be a reference for the main woman’s girlfriend a few weeks back. I’ve never even met her, but boy did the person checking her references get an earfull. How stupid can you be?!
Some day I’ll blog about our move-in nightmare. It involved them crapping and vomitting all over the toilet (and not cleaning it up) sometime between our walk-through and closing, not turning off the water hook-up to the washer after they moved it (so a room flooded), and them coming back several hours after closing and trying to get in WITH A KEY because they hadn’t moved all their crap out. Good times.
They also locked their dogs in cabinets.
Those people sound AWESOME. You poor thing. What assbags.
Pulling carrots up out of my parent’s garden when I was 5. I had always been an exceptionally truthful child, so they were awfully disappointed in me when I informed them that “Angel (the next door neighbor’s dog) did it.” Of course, a week later, they caught the hairy rascal at it and were forced to Mea Culpa to someone wearing a Strawberry Shortcake t-shirt.
Also, when I was 15, a cop cautioned me for soliciting. I was standing in front of a laundromat, waiting for my father to pick me up. Apparently, most hookers in my area wear pony tails and full length overalls and hang out in broad daylight, I guess.
You woman of ill repute!
“I used the money to buy new wallpaper, which is obviously your fault, so you have no one to blame but yourself. Now please get the fuck out of my house.”
Ok, I thought I posted this lol.
I was ostrasized in 8th grade because the all the rage was the Rubiks Cube (shut up, I am NOT old)
My parents couldnt get their hands on one since it was THE hot item, so I got an IOU for stockings that Christmas.
I had the unfortunate experience of getting my cube and bringing it to school the same day the MOST POPULAR GIRL AT SCHOOL had hers stolen.
Nobody talked to me for months. Until her cube showed up in her locker. As awful a thing that can happen to a middle schooler.
Weird too. I regularly go to Bon Jovi concerts with the offending accuser. She has grown some lol. (I am from NJ, so no hate on the Bon Jovi either)
I once live in a grad student dorm. There were private rooms, but two rooms had to share a single bathroom. A week after a new student moved into my suite, she knocked angrily on the door to my room and demanded her shampoo back. Never mind that I had left 2 jumbo bottles just sitting in the shower stall, clear evidence that I had plenty of my own and didn’t need to steal hers!
Wow, other people are weird.
You do have the best post titles.
Falsely accused of stuff? Mostly if I’m accused I did it.
Now that’s an experience. Who would have thunk to actually barge into a home you don’t own anymore and haven’t for 2 years and be such a bitch. Apparently she must have had money coming to fix up the bathroom in the house she owned at that time. 😉
The 8th grade daughter of divorced parents, I decided to move from my father’s house in rural Illinois so I could live with my mother in Tennessee. Rumor around the tee-tiny little town had it that I was knocked up. Me, a virgin, who up to that point had NEVER even french kissed a boy, much less had sex. And a mere 15 YEARS later, I produced my first offspring. Long pregnancy, eh? Turns out that even FACT can not stop a vicious small-town rumor, thus my splendidly tarnished reputation!
Wow, I even want to throw wallpaper at her. Sorry about your father. My grandfather just went through a very similar situation. I’ll keep both you and him in m thoughts.
we had a like 40 year old woman come to our house on halloween one year at 10:30 at night wanting candy and spouting off some conspiracy theory about Martha Stewart wanting to host a party in our neighborhood. It was bizarre.
PS I hate wallpaper too. Our house was loaded with it, and just like yours, it was stuck directly to drywall. Ugh!
Somebody would have gotten just flat out bitch slapped.
I answered the door one evening to find a woman standing there asking to use our phone as she had run out on her violent boyfriend. So I let her in, because I thought she would be calling the police. She did and then she called her boyfriend and screamed at him, how she had called the police and he was going to get it now and that she would knife him if he tried again…then silence. I went into the front room (I had been eaves dropping from the kitchen) – she was gone and the front door was wide open.
A few minutes later the doorbell rings again and I found a policeman on my doorstep asking if she was still there. “Umm, no” He asked me if she came back to keep her there as they could only protect her if they could find her…Sorry Officer, HELL NO, she is not coming into my house again! I spent the whole night freaking out about whether the boyfriend would find me and take me out for helping her…
Please don’t seek advice from an astrologer Britney! When your relationship is experiencing troubles you should go to a marriage councellor.
My high school friend, J, grew up in a nice house in LA. Recently, his parents have had some major issues with a woman (probably with dementia) who lives in a nursing home several miles away. This very elderly woman will come up to the house, try the door, then knock loudly and demand to be let in when she discovers it is locked. She then claims it is HER residence and tries to force entry. It’s a nuisance to his parents, but J also has a much younger son who is about 10, and he finds the whole situation terrifying. Naturally.
By now, the police know all about this woman. They patiently take her back to the nursing home every time she tries to move in to “her house”. The most recent time it happened, the lady convinced the nursing home that she had a place to stay, moved all her stuff out, and took a cab to J’s house. She showed up with all of her things (suitcases, books, lamps, etc.) and demanded to be let in.
Her behavior is bizarre, but then again if she does have some sort of memory loss that explains it. What I fail to understand is the behavior of the nursing home. They’ve let her just walk out on numerous occasions, one time with ALL OF HER THINGS, and have never questioned the behavior?? If you know a patient has memory loss, and she has tried to force entry on a residence multiple times over the course of a year, wouldn’t you be suspicious if she tried to leave again…?
That nursing home should really be responsible for this lady. That whole situation is just…sad. And scary! I mean her family should know that she’s doing this!
I am laughing loudly and quite embarrassed b/c 1. I cannot explain these posts nor comments to my kids and 2. this is already over a year old and I’m out of it. poor me.
We had renters in our home while we moved away for almost 2 yrs. 5 acres so a couple animals were no problem. this grew – 3 dogs, 2 cats, birds, rabbit, 2 horses. We regularily came back to town to check on the house and found backhoe tracks and only 1 horse. 2+2=old dead horse buried less than 8 feet from one of our wells…angry ‘we couldn’t do anything else…it’s been so hard on me’ crying. So you would think zero damage deposit would be appropriate but apparently not.
We moved back shortly after and did not use that well!
[…] lady popping randomly into your attic? CRAZY PEOPLE, THAT’S WHO. Rather than wait for the bitchy old lady who owned my house to come over and demand money again, I’m going to buy myself a lady! Who can pop in and out of my house! She’s an instant […]