Another woman contacted me about the bed we are selling, and we set up a time for her to come see and/or buy it: 8:00 p.m. She called at 7:00 to ask if we had all the parts for the bed, and if it had any damage. I assured her we all the bolts and nuts, and there was no major damage; it has some normal wear and minor scratches because it’s a used piece of furniture.

The woman, her husband, and their two ~5 year old children showed up on the doorstep at 8:00. I opened the garage door and showed them the bed. The husband just glanced at it from six feet away and was ready to take it immediately. The woman, though, went right up to the headboard, and looked at it closely, running her fingers over ever dent and nick.

They decided to take it, and wanted to write me a check. I asked if they had cash, and after checking their wallets, they didn’t have enough. I had forgotten to specify “cash only” in our sale listing.

“I can show you my driver’s license,” the woman said.

“You can trust us,” the husband said.

My mother always taught me, “trust me” really means, “screw you.” And this situation was just screaming, “rip off.”

I thought for a moment. You know, I don’t want to be suspicious of everyone. Surely not everyone is dishonest. Besides, we really just wanted to get the bed out of our way, more than we needed the money. I agreed to accept a check. It was a conscious decision to take the risk, and if the check turns out bad, I’ll never trust another person. Although, I did write her Arizona driver’s license on the check.

The couple strapped the headboard to the top of their small SUV, put the metal railings inside, and loaded up the kids. I watched them drive away and wondered if the check in my hand was going to clear the bank, or did I just willingly allow myself to be robbed.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

So I was out walking my regular path through the neighborhoods in the afternoon, and I see three kids up ahead: two boys and a girl, probably around 6 to 8 years old. They’re scooting around on skateboards, and when I get to about 20 yards from them, one of the boys waves at me and says, “Hi mom!”

I continue walking, and after three or four steps, the boy says, “Oops, that’s not my mom.”

I have a mustache and goatee. At the time, I also had two days growth of beard. What does this kid’s mom look like?

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

We bought a new bed and need to get rid of the old bed. I took a picture of the old bed (a wood headboard and metal frame) and posted the item on craigslist. Within the first two hours after posting, we got an email about it. That was impressive; I didn’t expect it to be that quick. The email gave me a phone number to call the prospective buyer, so I called immediately.

My phone call went straight to her voice mail, and while I was leaving a message, my phone beeped to tell me a call was coming in. I finished leaving my message and then clicked over to the new call. The incoming call was the woman for whom I was just leaving the message. So she started dialing my number while I was still connected to her number. (I understand how that works technologically, but it’s a bit weird socially). She asked about the bed and then got our address to come by and look at it. She requested 10:00 the next morning, and I agreed.

I showed up to meet her at 10:00, and I waited for 15 minutes. She never showed. At 11:45, she called and left a message on our machine saying “I have to cancel” the 10:00 meet—really?—and she’d try again later.

Fortunately, we have another email inquiring about the bed, so maybe I won’t deal with that woman again.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I mentioned in this blog last week that I had bought a few books from a used book store. I needed to put them somewhere out of my way, so I shoved them on the book shelf under my desk.

The shelf is packed full; there might be fifty books under there, on a shelf only 24″ wide—there’s a row of books behind the front row, and two more rows sitting on top of both. It’s holding thick, hardback text books and small paperback novels. I had to pull some out to rearrange how they were packed in, and while I had some scattered about the floor, I noted the wide range of subjects.

Some of the books on the shelf under my desk:

Undaunted Courage, by Stephen E. Ambrose — the story of the Lewis & Clark Expedition

The Elements of Style, by William Strunk, Jr. and E.B. White — the quintessential text on writing style

Guns, Germs, and Steel, by Jared Diamond — theories on how the different peoples of the world evolved and progressed differently

The Art of War, by Sun-tzu — ancient and influential text on tactics and strategies for warfare

Triggernometry, by Eugene Cunningham — short biographies of many well known Wild West gunfighters

Philosophy, by James L. Christian — college textbook on “the art of wondering”

U.S. Army Survival Handbook, by Department of the Army — exactly what the title says

Han Solo and the Lost Legacy, by Brian Daley — a novel about Han Solo and Chewbacca before the first Star Wars movie

Inside Delta Force, by Eric L. Haney — “The story of America’s elite counterterrorist unit”

A Short Victorious War, by David Weber — a “space opera” novel in the Honor Harrington series

Civil War Trivia and Fact Book, by Webb Garrison — just what the title says

The Mighty Eighth, by Gerald Astor — the story of the U.S. Army 8th Air Force in World War II

World of Warcraft Game Manual — player manual for the computer game

Starship Troopers, by Robert A. Heilein — science fiction novel

Phule’s Company, by Robert Asprin — science fiction comedy novel

Saga of Old City, by Gary Gygax — fantasy novel based on Dungeons & Dragons

The Sword of Shannara, by Terry Brooks — fantasy novel

Blackhawk Down, by Mark Bowden — the story of the battle of Mogadishu, Somalia

Soldat, by Siegfried Knappe — “Reflections of a German soldier, 1936-1949”

The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien — fantasy novel

Weapons, by The Diagram Group — illustrated listing and history of weapons through the ages

Westward the Tide, by Louis L’amour — western novel

The White Rose, by Glen Cook — fantasy novel

Under the Black Flag, by David Cordingly — a history of 18th Century Pirates

The Little Red Caboose, by Marian Potter and Tibor Gergely — a children’s book

My junior and senior year high school year books — a bunch of teenagers thinking they own the world

I put all the books back on the shelf, packed nice and neat. The above titles are only a random sampling; there’s two to six more of each of the above subjects or by each of the above authors. For instance, the whole Honor Harrington science fiction series is on the shelf, six or eight thin Louis L’amour western novels, the whole Black Company fantasy novel series, and a few dozen non-fiction books on various eras, wars, and battles (mostly WWII stuff).

The only unique book on the shelf is The Little Red Caboose. This is one of my childhood books that my mother found several months ago and gave to me; I reread it and then carefully put it on the shelf. I remember it from my young days, and it has all the signs of having been well read many years ago.

The only surprise I found was the two high school year books. I didn’t know they were under my desk; I would have thought they were packed away in a box somewhere. Thinking back on it, I really wish I had chosen to work on the year book in high school. I can’t really put my finger on why, but I think it would be a cool thing to look back on.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com