The Creepy Old Man

The Creepy Old Man

Ah, the good old days before social distancing, and when stores were open.

 a Cranky/Creepy rerun from October 2016

On the way to the hotel for this years fraternity reunion, Mrs. C wanted to stop at Kohl’s for something.  First she dropped me off at the cigar store about a block away, there may be some scotch and cigars involved at the reunion.  I made my purchase and was off to meet Mrs. C at Kohl’s.

I walked in the store and immediately saw Mrs. C in the check-out line.   I walked over to her, past several people who gave me that “you better not be cutting” fuzzy eyeball.  She did not see me; her back was turned.  As I leaned over to show my face she turned away to look at some merchandise.  At this point I started to reach out and grab her backside on the sly like I sometimes do…hey, I like her backside.

Just before I made contact something seemed wrong.  There were no red stripe highlights in Mrs. Cranky’s jet black hair.  The pants she was wearing did not look familiar.  I was about to say something when Mrs. C turned my way, and it was not Mrs. C!

I have a feeling I may have looked just a little creepy as I mumbled “excuse me” turned on my heels and got out of line.  Now I was looking for Mrs. C and wandering around like someone who does not belong and was only looking for trouble…you know, looking creepy. 

(I’m surprised I didn’t get drawn in magnet like to a certain ex-school teacher named Val who attracts creepy people.)

At this point I realized the store did not look familiar.   I was in T.J. Max not Kohl’s.

I quickly skulked out and I swear I saw several people on their cell phones, no doubt dialing 911.

I moved up one store to Kohl’s and quickly met up with Mrs. C. 

“We need to get out of here right now.”

“OK, I’m done, what’s wrong?”

“A really creepy guy almost grabbed your ass at T.J. Max just a minute ago.”

“What?  I was never in T.J. Max.”

“I was, and I almost grabbed your ass.”

“How could you almost grab my ass if I was not in T.J. Max…oh wait, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“Almost did; I was the creepy guy.”

“Let’s go, you can explain in the car, but I’m pretty sure it is going to end with you being a Jerk!”

And also a creep!

Soap Costs What?

Soap Costs What?

Listening to a TV commercial for hand sanitizer, I remarked,

“They are ripping people off, just because hand sanitizer is hard to buy these days because of Covid-19.”

“How much is it?”

“Fifteen dollars and you can’t get it on Amazon.  They say that like it is something special, probably Amazon won’t sell it as they are ripping people off.”

“You think?”

“Sure, Hell, what does a simple bar of soap cost, Fifty cents?”

“What?  This is not 1950 you know.”

“Well, the last time I bought soap…come to think of it, I have never bought soap.”

Imagine that, 74 years old and I have never bought soap.

“How could it be you have never bought a bar of soap?”

“Well, I never bought it at home, in college I just brought soap from home or used what was left in the fraternity house shower.  When I got married my wives did the shopping and I just have never bought soap.”

“Amazing!”

“So what does a bar of soap cost?”

“Around $1.50 to maybe $5.00 for the expensive stuff.”

“Holy cow, no wonder you don’t throw away the slivers.”

I have to get out more…but not for another few weeks.

The Smoke Detector

The Smoke Detector

The other day my breakfast was ruined as every 30 seconds an annoying beep came from the basement family room.  I traced the annoying beep to a smoke detector in the basement. 

“Why is it f***ing beeping?”  I demanded of my more patient wife.  “The battery must be low,” came the calm response.

“The BATTERY? WTF, the thing is hard wired!”

“In case of a power shortage there is a battery as a back-up.  When the battery is low it beeps to warn you.”

“Really.  What happens if there is a power failure, the battery is low, but the beep function is defective?  We will all die!”

“Just change the battery……you’re a jerk.”

After much twisting, turning and prying, I managed to take down the detector and change the battery.  I twisted and turned back locking the device in the ceiling and retreated upstairs with a satisfied grin.

Beep Beep!  “FUCK! I thought you said it was the battery.”

“That new battery is a couple of years old; it must not be any good.  Go out and get a new 9 volt and stop whining.  You’re a jerk.”

The wife is almost never wrong on stuff like this, so I went to the hardware store for a new battery.  Forty-five minutes later I was back.  After much twisting, turning and prying, I managed to take down the detector and change the battery.  I twisted and turned it back locking the device in the ceiling and retreated upstairs with a satisfied grin.

Beep Beep! 

“FUCK! I thought you said it was the battery.”

“Are you sure you changed it correctly?  What a jerk!”

“YES!!

Beep Beep.

Now I was really pissed.  After much twisting, turning and prying I pulled down the offending detector (again) and unplugged it from the hard wiring.

Beep Beep.

WTF!  I yanked out the battery.

Beep Beep.

Now I was really angry.  I ran to the garage, grabbed a hammer, and smashed the smoke detector to bits.  Silence.

“What did you do?”

“I busted the freaking thing up, that beep was driving me nuts.”

“That’s a short trip! Jerk.”

Sweaty but satisfied that the battle was over I was again jolted by that annoying sound. 

Beep Beep.

I trudged downstairs hammer in hand ready to destroy.  Destroy what I did not know.  I stared at the hole in the ceiling and waited. 

Beep Beep. 

It was not coming from the ceiling.  Listening carefully I traced the sound.

Beep Beep.

Found it!  It was a Carbon Monoxide detector in the corner.  One of three in the room left by the former owner!  No carbon monoxide was going to get passed this basement unnoticed.  The freaking thing was just defective.  It is now defective about thirty yards into the woods where I chucked it.  Problem solved!

“You’re a jerk!”  

A cranky re-run from June 2012