After the bus swallowed up the Boy and carted the neighborhood kids off to school, the Girl and I turned to go in the house to grab our stuff and climb in the car to head off to Pre-K. That's when I noticed a rolled up piece of paper stuck in our door handle.
"Flyer," I thought to myself, and snatched it up as we entered the house. But lo, there was handwriting on it, which is kind of unusual. It actually looked like the lawn care notes we used to get after a weed-killer spraying. It was a double-pain in the ass to get that service canceled back in the Fall, so I thought, "Oh no... I hope we didn't chuck some 'call us to cancel or we will spray your lawn with weed killer for the rest of your life!' junk mail."
That is not what happened, you'll be happy to know.
Nope. The service report I held in my hands was for a house around the corner from us. Same street number, wildly differently named street.
"What the hell?" I said.
"You said 'What the hell'" the Girl said.
"I sure did," I answered.
Now, I've gotten this neighbor's mail before, but not pest control services. I mean, what'd the guy do, just stop when he saw the street number and decide we must be the place? Although, I was happy to see, the report indicated that we have no evidence of pest activity. Which is good, I guess. Validates the fact that we, you know, didn't actually order any pest control services.
I could only imagine the irritation of my neighbor, though, if she called this company and was all, "We're infested! Where you at?" [Disclaimer: I have no idea if my neighbor speaks this way, but in my head she does.] So, I did the neighborly thing and called the pest service company and informed them that I think they hosed down my house instead of the one that contracted their services. To which they responded, "Oh boy."
Then, I left a message at my neighbor's house to let them know what happened.
Watch. I'll get a bill from the company for services rendered, and the neighbor will give me the cold shoulder because they are embarrassed that I know they have bugs.
"Flyer," I thought to myself, and snatched it up as we entered the house. But lo, there was handwriting on it, which is kind of unusual. It actually looked like the lawn care notes we used to get after a weed-killer spraying. It was a double-pain in the ass to get that service canceled back in the Fall, so I thought, "Oh no... I hope we didn't chuck some 'call us to cancel or we will spray your lawn with weed killer for the rest of your life!' junk mail."
That is not what happened, you'll be happy to know.
Nope. The service report I held in my hands was for a house around the corner from us. Same street number, wildly differently named street.
"What the hell?" I said.
"You said 'What the hell'" the Girl said.
"I sure did," I answered.
Now, I've gotten this neighbor's mail before, but not pest control services. I mean, what'd the guy do, just stop when he saw the street number and decide we must be the place? Although, I was happy to see, the report indicated that we have no evidence of pest activity. Which is good, I guess. Validates the fact that we, you know, didn't actually order any pest control services.
I could only imagine the irritation of my neighbor, though, if she called this company and was all, "We're infested! Where you at?" [Disclaimer: I have no idea if my neighbor speaks this way, but in my head she does.] So, I did the neighborly thing and called the pest service company and informed them that I think they hosed down my house instead of the one that contracted their services. To which they responded, "Oh boy."
Then, I left a message at my neighbor's house to let them know what happened.
Watch. I'll get a bill from the company for services rendered, and the neighbor will give me the cold shoulder because they are embarrassed that I know they have bugs.
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