Sorry it’s been a while but life got in the way.
We are moved in to the new house and we love it. What we aren’t crazy about its our quarter-mile, 35 degree angled, treacherous driveway that we have to deal with every time it snows. And living in New Hampshire, we get a lot of snow.
A good snowplow guy is your best friend during winter or could be your worst enemy if he is an idiot. Ours fell into the latter category.
The owner or of the property gave us the number for his plowguy, who came with the house the same way the mice in the basement did, the same way the fox who killed one of our chickens did, the same way the mold on the rocks under the pine trees did. He has been a fixture here since last winter so we had to use his services.
He came up a few weeks ago, got stuck halfway up, had to be hauled out by a neighbor, and scrambled off. Said he wouldn’t come back unless we salted the driveway first. OK fine, we find out that we have to go to the highway department with 50 pound buckets, fill them with road salt, haul them up to the house, and I walk behind the truck as Melissa drives up the hill and I salt and salt to get the initial ice layer melted for our princess of a snowplow guy so he ‘don’t get stuck again’.
We do this. It’s a good workout, so I don’t mind. Plowguy shows up again, get stuck at the bottom of the hill but after a few more tries he makes it up and finally clears our driveway. $75 thank you and he is on his way. Not cheap, especially since we salted ourselves.
Last Sunday we were pelted with 10″ of fresh snow. Out I go again to prep the driveway for snowplow guy. He never shows. We make it down the hill in our truck slowly, carefully, but since we salted, it was passable and we took the kids sledding. We came back an hour or two later and I noticed some tracks way at the bottom of the hill, maybe about 10 feet up. It looks like plowguy showed up again but failed and left, quickly. Up we go, 4×4, and we make it just fine.
Monday comes. More snow. Plowguy shows his weather-beaten, mustachioed face and with his New Hampshire drawl tells us that he came up the hill on Sunday, got stuck for two hours, had to get towed, did the driveway and wanted $75 for Sunday and $75 for Monday as well. I was half paying attention since I was at the computer working. Melissa dealt with him and even questioned him “Are you sure you were here yesterday because the driveway was not cleared and the tracks we saw were only at the bottom.” “Nope, I was here, I was here for two hours, got stuck, and had to get help.” She wrote him a check and off he went.
Still with me?
On Thursday I am out at the woodpile getting some wood for our stove when our neighbor Chris, a good man, comes over with his tractor (yes, we live in farm country) and says “Hey you know, your plowguy’s is a real nitwit. Did you know that?” I said I did. He then told me that on Sunday he came over for five minutes, tried to get up the hill but couldn’t then stormed out and took off. I could feel my blood boil instantly. Even though it was 12 degrees outside I stood there and the back of my neck got really hot. Chris kept telling me that the plowguy’s problem, besides being an idiot, is that he uses regular truck tires, not winter tires and he can’t get up the hill without difficulty. Any plowguy, Chris said, knows that do to this driveway he needs winter tires, not regular ones.
I told him that he claimed he was stuck for two hours, Chris called him a ‘damned liar’ who was here for five minutes and he swore to me that he and his wife laughed at him the entire time. Chris bailed him out once before when he was stuck, but vowed never to do it again since the guy never repaid him with a case of beer. Fair enough.
OK now I am steamed.
I go inside and grab the phone to call this guy but figured I am way too angry and I need to calm down, plus I was sure that plowguy is an alcoholic and night time constructive talking would not be his forte. I was right: I found a police record on him for domestic assault and battery from 2007 and 2003, both events happened in January, at night. Something about the winter months and alcohol and locals. Bad mix.
OK so I wait till morning. I find out he cashed our check for $150 ($75 of which I now considered stolen money). I call him. He answers. And I tear into him calling him a liar and a thief. He claimed he was there for two hours, got stuck and had to go. So that’s why he charged us so much money. I told him I had witnesses who swore he was there for 5 minutes (another neighbor came forward and corroborated the evidence) and he called them all liars. So I said “they are all lying just to screw you? Why would they do that? Why would strangers to you lie to me? Explain.” Silence. “I WAS THERE!! TWO HOURS NOW YOU ARE PISSING ME OFF!” He screamed back. When someone gets caught in a lie, it ain’t pretty. He then offered to produce a witness, I made a joke about our chickens being good witnesses and he got even angrier.
I gave him one last chance to come clean and do right by us. He refused. One more: “Be a man, confess what you did, and we can make this right. Or keep lying, you lose the account all winter, and I take you to small claims court, file a police report, and ruin your already ruined name in town. Up to you.” “I an’t doin’ nuthin” My last response was, “Wow, you are as stupid as they say.” No answer. I hung up.
After getting off the phone my first thought was to grab a crowbar and drive over to his place and smash out his windows and break his kneecaps, something that 20 years ago with have been a real reaction on my part (can you smell my NYC public school education) – but of course I can’t do that now. And I didn’t. What was overwhelming is that with all our difficulties, this asshole and his lying and cheating was the one other stress we didn’t need.
But we decided to legally deal with him and his nonsense and keep going on with our lives. Then last night I took my son to his hockey practice at the arena. And who do I see there? Idiot plowguy. He has an older son who plays hockey and I saw him dropping him off and leaving. I wanted to go over and talk to him but was still suiting up Jack. Plowguy left and Jack went on the ice and I turned around in my seat to face all people and activity (never sit with your back to the crowd or to the door if you ever want to avoid a suckerpunch, which plowguy would seem like the perfect perpetrator thereof). I read my book, watched Jack practice, and as Jack came off the ice, I see plowguy across the lobby of the arena waiting for his son, his young daughter by his side.
Exeter is a small town. We are going to be running into each other at the arena, at the supermarket, at the bank. I mustered up all my anger, put it away, and after I got Jack undressed, I walked over to him and put my hand out and said look, “We have been through hell this year. I had to go on disability, I have been battling cancer, my wife is only working part time, we lost our home, and so every penny we have is accounted for. So when I feel like someone is trying to take advantage of my family financially, I lose it. We’re both hockey parents, we live in the same town, and I have cancer. Cancer likes stress and I hate cancer, so I have to let this go. I don’t want to be angry with you over money issues. What happened happened, and I want to move on so I can avoid one more stress in my life.” He kept looking down at the floor. Not sure what was going on in that head of his but I hoped I was making a connection. I made sure to to look in his eyes the entire time but he kept avoiding mine. He only lifted his head once to say ” I was there.” I waved him off and said “I never said you weren’t, it’s your time that I have a problem with.” And again, I ended with saying “Look, it’s over. I’ll see you here and say hello, and you can do the same, Oh and if you doubt any of my story, Google me. You’ll see it’s all true.” I shook his hand and walked away.
I felt exhilarated. Jack watched and heard the whole thing and asked me about it afterward. It was a good, teachable moment. I was tightly wound all day from our call, I wanted to really hurt this asshole for hurting us, but instead I took the high road, which I rarely do when I am wronged like that. And it felt incredible. I felt free. I let it go and that is hard for me to do.
My father would have decked this guy if he were in the same situation when he was younger man, a scene I witnessed numerous times as a child when he had me in tow. I handled it differently and it was good.
My cancer meditation CD tells me that only I have the power to let certain people control my emotions, my life, and my stress. Last night, at the hockey arena I took control in a good way.
And guess what? I was free. I had a great night with the family. my stress disappeared, and that tight feeling my chest was gone.
