March 31, 2013

The Tree Stalker

So Saturday before last I'm bumming around the house like I normally do on Bobby's work weekends, and my doorbell rings. Well the welcoming committee (aka the dogs) told me someone was here before the doorbell actually rung. I was on the phone with B, went to the door and walked outside (have you ever tried to talk to someone over 4 barking dogs? Kinda difficult). 

It was my tree stalker. 

This guy has been coming by my house on & off for over two years asking to cut down this dead tree in my backyard. Business card and everything. 

This chick has been too broke to afford some tree cutting service. Well he must've known it was tax time and I actually paid my bills this month without a negative balance, so I asked him how much. He said $175 to just cut it down & $225 to cut it down and haul it off. B is on the phone telling me no way, these guys are going to come back & rob you. And me being the trusting gal that I am, am thinking, nah, they just need some work. 

Tree stalker: "200 if you say yes right now!"

It's about to fall on my fence & it's going to cost more than $200 to fix a broken fence. Hell why not. It will also make dude stop ringing my doorbell at 9am. 

They said they would come back Sunday. But 2 hours later, the tree stalker, his friend and a chick friend return. No worries, I'm not trying to have a lazy weekend or anything. 

I get them situated in the backyard & I start crafting at the dining room table. I have some Pinterest projects I should be working on anyway. Next thing you know, I look out my dining room window and see this: 

What a complete moron, right? At this point, I'm thinking they really don't know what the hell they are doing. I'm not one to judge a book by its cover, but did I mention they were missing teeth and had rat tails? Better than a mullet I guess. 

So I'm like, oh gah, what did I get myself into? I guess the worst case scenario is they break my fence anyway. I was wrong.

Next thing you know, dude has fallen out of tree and his limp body is at the base of my tree and his friends are asking him if he can feel his legs. Holy shit. (Did I mention that I cuss like a sailor?) What am I supposed to do?! 

I go out there to check on the guy, who is now sitting up. He tries to hide the fact that he has busted his lip and has blood all down the front of his shirt. I ask them if they need a towel or something to drink, everyone says they are good. Tree stalker states he was just down there trying to figure out how to cut down the tree (yeah right, like you meant to be down there) Apparently one of the limbs he was standing on broke. Surprising from a dead tree, right?

A few minutes later, they decide tree stalker needs to go home & tend to his lip so they tell me they will come  back tomorrow and finish. Before they go, they spend another 15 minutes staring at my tree contemplating how to cut it down. Okay, I'm no rocket scientist, but at this point I'm thinking these guys don't know what they are doing. 

I go outside and ask, "Sooooo... do y'all know how y'all are cutting the tree down?" 

Tree stalker: "Oh yeah! We're going to climb back in the tree, tie some rope around it, and tie the rope to the truck. Then we will cut into the tree and pull it with the truck."

Yeah.... that's not going to happen. Let's climb back up into the dead tree and break our neck next time. I don't think so.

Me: "How about I just pay y'all for what you've done today and we leave the tree alone?"
Tree stalker: "Oh we can get it! We've done a thousand trees like that one!"
Me: "We're just going to leave the tree alone. Thanks anyway! Do y'all take check?" (Knowing it's a Saturday and they can't cash a check on Saturday and I'm pretty sure they need the cash to buy meth)
Tree stalker: "I don't think we take checks."

Of course you don't. So I run to the ATM & send them on their merry way. 

So I think. 

At this point in the story, I'm sure they don't sound very stalkerish. Well, I return home on Sunday from a friend's house to find a note in my door that read:

"Yesterday was just a mistake. We can cut down your tree. Please call me"

Guess he didn't get the point. 

Then Monday morning at 9am, the welcoming committee let's me know someone is about to ring my doorbell. I'm asleep & totally not in the mood, but I hear them talking on my porch, and its the tree stalker! I don't answer, they finally leave and I go back to sleep. 

Then Tuesday morning at 9am, someone knocks on my door... twice. Followed by the doorbell ringing... 8 times. I'm in bed and thinking to myself, if that doorbell rings ONE MORE TIME...

And it does. So I get up. I swing open the door to look at my tree stalker.

Me: "WHAT?!" (Don't wake up a vampire)
Tree stalker: "I'm sorry, were you sleeping?"

I sure as hell wasn't baking cookies. I don't live in a mansion. So I don't know why else you think it would be necessary to ring someone's doorbell 9 TIMES. 

Me (in a highly aggravated, very pissed off tone): "I WAS. Look, I'm not interested. If you come back again, I will be calling the police and filing harassment charges."
Tree stalker (looking utterly shocked): "Okay." 

And I haven't seen him since. Thank goodness. 
Lesson of the story: don't be nice to cracked out strangers. 

<3 Jenn

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