Monday, August 26, 2013

He's Back! The Ballad Of Wasted Steve, Or, If It Walks Like It Huffs Glue, and Talks Like It Huffs Glue . . ., by Allison

So today, as I am unloading my teas and whatever hunting and gathering for the people in this house, what to my wondering eyes should appear?

(Spoiler!  Note: It was not Santa and tiny reindeer.
Was, like the opposite, unless Santa has had a very, very rough year)

It was World's Worst Alleged Handyman Who Is Not Handy And Can't Even Spell His Tattoos Right, Wasted Steve!

For those who have not had to hear me rant about Wasted Steve and his inept, absurd, bizarre requests for money while doing NO work and in fact breaking stuff, here is backstory:

The Ballad Of  Wasted Steve, by Allison

Without going into the specifics of why we had a non-coherent, pickled from drinking turpentine handyman wrecking our house, the short answer is:

Blame The Adult In The House That Is Not Named Allison.

I am presented with this handyman, much like a cat leaves a bird for its owner
(Note: I hate cats and birds).

Handyman, let’s call him Wasted Steve, arrives to begin a little project of assembling some things for V’s tween room while she is gone for the weekend so we can have big surprise reveal when she gets home.

He brings with him no tools, but a friend who seems very nice and is wearing the same expression you see on dogs wearing outfits:
 “I really wish someone would save me, but I have given up hope.”
Big mess is made, nothing is finished.

Wasted Steve to come back the next day at 9 am.


5 pm, because he was “tired.”

And then he has to help somebody move.

So, Matt assembles the room and we get it all ready for V, I think this is the last of Wasted Steve, but no.
The Adult In This House That Is Not Named Allison apparently lets this total non-handyman work on our fence, because “it is outside” and that way he won’t bother me. 

This is proof of:

1. Who is or isn’t the person who normally deals with house stuff and

2. Who is or isn’t the person that gets to leave (fine, to go save lives, bla  bla) the house and not deal with nonsense like this.

 Also, the cell phone number given to WS? That would be that of The Adult  In This House Who IS Named Allison But Is Not The Person Who Gave WS Her Phone Number.
The following ensues:
1.   WS shows up for fence work with no tools, and then asks for money to go buy tools from “a guy who needs to get rid of them.”

Not making this up.

My answer is, "No, I am not giving you money to buy tools otherwise known as Mad Dog."

2.    WS brings friends who actually do fence work, and fence work happens, but not at all by WS.

Who, by the way, looks like the guy who waited outside the 7-Eleven to buy beer for high school kids when we were growing up and has spent the subsequent decades huffing, snorting, drinking, eating, or sitting in things found in garages only.
 Note: He is not scary or threatening and I in no way fear for our safety
(That would be safety of The Adult Person Named Allison and Her Three Daughters Who Live In This House And Do Not Get To Go Hide At The Hospital (fine treat cancer, whatever) All Day).

WS can only half-stand, he's veering way off to one side.  I can totally roundhouse him with my new kickboxing skills if necessary, which it is not.

Since he is seriously mumbling with his eyes closed and I could push him in the road and end all this at any time.

3.   WS leaves a big mess, says will clean it up.

Does not.

Does, however, come back the next day to I AM NOT LYING ask me for “$150 cash” for a court appearance.

My answer is, "No, I am not giving you money for court, or court related appearances due to Mad Dog, or just for you to buy Mad Dog."

 4.  Money is given for work on fence done by WS’s associates. And seriously? You guys, you need new friends/boss-persons/crazy man who won’t go away and makes you do stuff. 

As an added bonus, WS tries to get me to write check to some random person who is not WS or anyone else I have ever met.
And I am all,"No, that would totally get me somehow involved in a meth lab situation I do not want, sorry."
5.   The Adult In This House Named Allison thinks this little episode is over,
 and is begins to imagine the gemstone weight and quality that she is owed for putting up with this lunacy.

6.   The Adult In This House Named Allison is wrong.

Wasted Steve shows up the next morning as I am leaving to take girls to swim team, for money.

"Because he is just trying to keep his wife out of jail.”

I am not making this up.

My answer is "No, I am not giving you money to keep your wife out of jail otherwise known as you are going to go buy Mad Dog."

7.  WS wanders away, only to show up later saying he is going to go get blocks so he can stand on our roof.


 Me: “We do not need roof work. Why do you need blocks to stand on the roof?”
 WS : “Mumble Mumble now imitating that country guy who could not be understood    on the cartoon that used to follow The Simpsons.”
Me: “Never mind whatever you said. NO blocks. NO roof. All done. Goodbye.”
WS: “I need $400”
Me: “AAAARGH! Go Away!
I am not a nice person and not only am I going to totally blog about this but also may call the police and Underdog.”
(I threw in that last part because clearly he is completely addled in the head due to glue huffing and I thought it might scare him)
8.   I am now leaving out jewelry catalogs and crafting very mean e-mails,.

And if Wasted Steve shows up again, I am going to do what the dog trainer taught me to do when the dogs were bad, which is squirt them in the face with a water bottle.

But instead, I have the girls’ giant super soaker loaded, and am just going to blast him until he figures it out and goes away.

This is my version of arming the house with a shotgun.

Words and waterguns.

Totally ineffectual tools in Getting Wasted Steve To Go Away.

I need to re-read The Art of War, or The Cat In The Hat or something,
because Wasted Steve is back.

With a friend.

He rang the doorbell one billion times,
I finally looked at him (and his friend, who could be fine, but has bad taste in company for sure)
through the windows on our dratted historical yet window-laden front door,

And he said, incoherently but this is English translation

"I am going to be on blocks on the roof looking in your bedroom in case you are in there or in the shower."

And I said, "No, no you are not, no blocks, no roof, no windows, no bedroom, no money, no nothing."

And he says, "Well, just wanted to tell you why I would be looking in the window."

And I say, "Seriously?" this is aimed at friend , I have given up on WS.

Friend is like, "Dude."

I am like, "I do have a (squirt)gun and a friend who has a homicide detective police husband,  and I am going to call her RIGHT NOW."

Friend totes away WS.

For now. I am going to now go put dog bowls of gasoline in front of all the houses on our street but mine so he will be lured away.

I am sure my intern could solve this ongoing dilemma, please I want an intern.