Andy, I hope you can get some sleep... :)

At the risk of sounding a bit like a crabby old man, get this:

The good folks at Cincinnati Gas and Electric gave me a four hour window in which they would be showing up at my old apartment to read the meter, that I might no longer be paying for electricity at a dwelling in which I no longer reside. So...four hours, fair enough. The CG&E guy calls me at the tail end of that four hours, and tells me to be at my old apartment in twenty minutes, or he was leaving. So, I got in the car, and raced over to the old apartment. When I got there, a man who was bearded, surly and a little long in the tooth told me that he had been waiting patiently for three minutes, and was not allowed to wait more than five. "Good," I reassured him, "because I am here, so that should end any anxiety about having to wait for me to come." I got to the front door of my old apartment, and perused my key ring to find entrance to ol' place. Oops...I don't have that key anymore...I gave it back to my landlord when I moved out of the apartment. I told the service technician to hang on for a moment, dialed my landlord (who lives right down the street from the old apartment) and asked him to please bring the key over. My landlord said he would be there in two minutes.

...this is where the story gets interesting.

I hung up the phone (an antiquated expression, I suppose...I really hit "off" and shoved it back in my front pocket) and told the service technician that our relief would come in two minutes, and that my landlord would admit us into the building, that the service tech might spend the good four-and-a-half seconds it takes to read my meter.

"Sorry," ol' Beardo said, "can't wait that long." He started to move towards his truck.

"You're kidding," I told him, polite as ever. "I mean, you're seriously joking, right? He'll be here in two minutes."

"Nope, sorry. Can't wait any longer."

"But you drove all the way out here...you sat outside for that [grueling] three minutes before I got here...we walked to my front door...you can't wait two minutes for my landlord to bring the key?"

"Sorry. That's the rules." He shuffled away and got into his truck, as I unleashed the first profanity I've spoken above 20 dB in many years. I didn't curse at him...I just cursed at the air. At God, perhaps..."what kind of God allows such injustices to go on," I wondered as I stood on my posh American ex-apartment lawn with my fat American belly hanging over my white guy American chinos.

I ran over to his truck. "Wait," I said, "it took us a minute just now...one more minute and he'll be here...you don't have to race off, do you? I mean, I waited four hours, and I'll have to set another appointment and wait for more hours, not to mention all the electricty costs I'll incur in the meantime. Where do you have to race off to?"

"I've got to do one across the street," he replied, as if this wasn't the most absurd thing he was going to have said all week. The scary thing was, perhaps it wasn't.

"ACROSS THE STREET?" I replied. "Great! Then you can just pop over when you're done...I will have had the door unlocked for a good five minutes by then...no waiting...no waiting at all! Just walk in, read, and walk out!"

"Sorry," he said, with a straight face. "Can't do it. I already put you down in our computer as a no-show."

"Well, can you un-put it?" I wasn't sure this was a word, but I think Beardo and I were speaking the same language.

"Sorry," he said. He uttered that word with the practiced recitation of a master. "It's already down at Central." With that, Beardo put his car into reverse, backed into the driveway across the street, and went to work.

..I'm certain the guy across the street had his key ready.



Peace,
Justin