I live down a 1/4 mile long driveway, in the woods so far that we have to give the birds sheet music, just so they'll know what to sing. I battle daily with mosquitoes, ants, ticks, and spiders. Sometimes, there's even a few coyotes. Heck, a freaking bear even demolished some of the bee hives this year. When I takes my dogs out to diddle, each of which is five pounds or less, it is not unusual to have a bird of prey swoop down so close that I am in it's shadow. Unnerving, to say the least.
I pump my water. for hundreds of yards, from a spring down the hill. If the water stops, one of us has to bathe in bug spray, put on our shit-kickers, and head off down through the woods, following the pipe to the cistern and work out the issue. There could be mud in the line. Once, years ago, we even found a crawdad blocking the pipe! I live at least twenty-five minutes from the nearest store. Further than that from the nearest police department, fire department, and hospital. I live daily with the knowledge that, should a prowler choose to come here, I will have to shoot him or her, as I am not taking my chances on waiting for help to arrive. Rather than wait, afraid for my children's safety, for help to arrive, I would prefer that the prowler have to wait, in fear of bleeding out, for help to arrive.
I live like this for pretty much one reason. PRIVACY.
Old friends, new friends, family (with several exceptions), and the occasional lost victim of country directions, are always welcome. That being said, there are some people that are about to meet the crazier side of me...
1. If you have been hired to do field work. That work is in the FIELD. So why are you showing up, a frigging hour or more before the time you were told to arrive, knocking on my fu*king door, waking my kids, and pissing off my dogs? Not once, not twice, but ALL THE TIME.
Hubs is recovering from an illness and I have my own medical problems and am a bitch on top of that. Give us time to get dressed and have a cup of coffee, discuss the days plans. I don't sleep well. I wake with pain in every joint. The last thing I need to deal with is your rude ass, at my house, for no reason at all, at Sparrow's Fart:30, because you had some time to kill before going to work. My husband needs to take meds, do breathing treatments, and eat something, before going out the door. When he has to rush out early, because of your rudeness, he sometimes skips one or even all of these things. As a result, he is sick as a dog by mid-morning and winds up back in bed for the rest of the day.
If you had a public job, you would never show up at the owners house, the way you do here.
2. Have the decency to call before showing up. Actually, you should call and ask if it is OK for you to show up. This is our home. Treat it as such. Even if we have nothing more planned than sitting on our asses all day, watching TV, it's our family time and you have no business interrupting it.
If you do remember to call and get no answer, that either means that we have no desire to speak with you, OR we are not home. Why would you then hang up, get in your car, and come over? Because you are rude as hell. That's why.
And while I am on a roll...
3. I went to work at age 16. I am now 42. I have never, EVER, worked anywhere that paid my gas to get there, provided me with food and drinks (with exception of restaurant work), or gave me personal loans. Why in hell would you expect us to provide these things?
I, and millions of other folks, have made it through a work day, fueled by a bottle of pop and a pack of Nabs, purchased on our way to work. By weeks end, funds might have only allowed for a Thermos of coffee, and no Nabs. Sometimes, I had nothing to eat and a water fountain. I would never have dreamed of calling my boss's wife on my cellphone and telling her "It's drink and food time." Some things just aren't other people's problem. If you can stop work and take your ass to the store for food and drink, AFTER you find out I'm not bringing a buffet to the field, you could have just as easily stopped by the store on the way here. It may have cut into your Standing On Susan's Porch for No Damned Reason time, but life is full of sacrifices.
We used to provide, as a nice gesture, coolers of drink and snacks. But, cartons of drinks started to disappear, as well as boxes of snacks. So, a few thieving, greedy, assholes, ruined it for the decent workers.
Also, gas is not free. Never has been, to my knowledge. Whenever I have had to asked someone else for a ride to or from work, I gave them money for gas. I assumed everyone did this. In your case, I was wrong.
Also, it is not OK to tell your boss's wife that she has no say over his money. It is OUR money, not just his. I am cuter than you. I give great back rubs. I am the mother of his children. I will get my way. Notice how you haven't been called back to work? You pissed off the wrong person at this house.
4. In closing... It is not OK to look at my 16 year old daughter like she is a pork chop. I know a pervert when I see one. I have dealt with your kind my whole life. Touch her and I will END YOU.
I have also dealt with thieving bastards my whole life. I know the look someone has when they are casing a place. Again, I will END YOU.
Any car, boat, picnic table, power tool, kid's riding toy, storm door, tire, etc... sitting in my garage or under the shed, was purchased by us, at some point, because we either needed or wanted it at some point. It is beyond rude to point at our belonging and ask, "What are you going to do with that right there?" We're going to own it, until we tire of owning it, at which point, we will give it to someone of our choosing or advertise it for sale. At least pretend you've had some damn raising.