Posted by
Becky
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This is really long, but it's a story I like & never get to tell. So get comfy.
This weekend, the weekend before Thanksgiving, is always significant in our neck of the woods. It marks the Big Game, the annual faceoff between The Ohio State University and the university of michigan. The Game happens on Saturday, and for some reason, Friday is on my husband's List of Party Nights (other Party Nights include: the night before Thanksgiving and the night Daylight Savings Time ends - the fall-back one, not the spring ahead one. He SWEARS these are popular nights to go out and drink. I don't know if he's correct or not, or where he gets this information. Even if he's right, the List has got to be from when he was in college. 25 years ago.).
Anyway.
Three years ago, on the Friday night of this Big Game weekend, J let me know he was going out for a few beers with some co-workers. I wasn't interested, so I just went straight home from work. I ended up going to bed pretty early, and was just drifting off to sleep at 9:15 when the phone rang. It was J. Calling to tell me he had been arrested and was spending the night in jail.
He wasn't making much sense; he had apparently taken Party Night pretty seriously, and all he could tell me was that he got arrested for kicking someone's car. He expected to be released the next morning at around 9, but would call me in the morning when he knew for sure. I told him I'd pick him up whenever he was able to leave, and I would talk to him the next day.
Just as a quick disclaimer, while he was definitely drunk, he was not driving and had no plans to drive. He was drinking downtown near work, and would have taken the bus home from the bar.
15 minutes later, the phone rang again. J again, calling to ask me to record the Big Game just in case he wasn't set free in time.
In my head I said, "What kind of jail are you in that you're allowed to call home & ask me to record the game?"
Out loud I said, "Of course I will record the game. But don't worry, you'll be home by then. I'll see you tomorrow."
The next morning, he called to say he was being let out and I could come get him. This happened to be our weekend with the kids, so we'd end up going straight from the jail to pick them up (I know, right?). So I got in the van & drove downtown and went inside to get him.
The guard at the desk: "Can I help you?"
Becky: "I'm here to pick up my husband."
Guard: "Where is he?"
Becky: "He, um, spent the night here, if you know what I mean."
Guard: "And he's been released?"
Becky: "That's what he said when he called me."
Guard: "Why isn't he down here waiting?"
Becky: "I don't know. I've never done this sort of thing before. Should he be waiting?"
Guard: "Usually they're down here in the lobby. Let me call upstairs and see what's going on."
So he calls upstairs, and when he hangs up, he's all "I don't know what's going on but they said you have to go upstairs to get him. This is really weird. Go up to the 6th floor to pick him up."
I head up to the 6th floor, use a phone to let someone know I'm there, and another guard comes out with a piece of paper for me to sign. I start signing my name and he just says "You have no idea what you're signing, do you?"
What the fuck, man? What's the worst it could be? Am I trading my husband's freedom for my own? I kind of doubt it. What is up with you guys going out of your way to stress me out?
I looked at the form I was signing and all it was was a bond agreement; if J didn't show up for his court date I would be held responsible. Fine, whatever, give me my husband back.
They go to get J, and when he comes down the hall towards me he looks AWFUL. He has only re-laced one of his shoes, his hair is all matted, his eyes have huge bags under them. I've never seen him look so horrible before or since.
We get in the van and he starts fretting about how getting arrested is going to result in him losing his job, which in turn is going to mean he can't buy Christmas presents, which in turn will mean that all his children will hate him.
He obviously didn't get a very good night's sleep. I convince him to just take it one step at a time, and for now we'll just concentrate on resting. We get the kids, get everyone home, and J posts up on the couch for the Game.
Later, I finally get the full story:
After Happy Hour festivities had come to an end, J made his way to the bus stop to get a ride home. While he was standing there, a guy pulled up and parked his car right in front of the bus shelter - a no-parking zone. J said something to the guy, who basically just flipped him off and walked away. J may or may not have (he probably did) kicked the car's rear fender. Not hard, just making a statement. No damage.
By the way, this particular bus stop is basically right across the street from the justice center/police station/jail.
Within minutes, a bus pulled up, couldn't get all they way to the curb because of the car, so J stepped into the street to board. He had one foot on the bus, and suddenly felt himself getting pulled backwards by several cops. He was arrested & taken in for the night.
(Our theory is that the guy who parked there was an off-duty officer who just ran in and sent his buddies out to get J for kicking his car.)
J was never given a copy of his police report, but got one look at it. It stated that he was resisting arrest, taunting a police officer, wouldn't stop yelling after being asked to stop. None of this is true or even believable. He'd been drinking, but wasn't wasted. This happened before 9 PM. He isn't a belligerent drunk. None of the accusations made sense at all.
He showed up for his court date, and hired a lawyer who pretty much agreed with our off-duty officer theory. He helped J get into a first-time-offenders program, which involved a few months of probation, and then his record got expunged.
5 months and several hundred dollars later, the whole thing was over. But J was left with a bad impression of police officers for a while. The best part was when the end of his probation kind of dovetailed with the Duke lacrosse team being exonerated of rape charges, and J had this to say about the news:
"I can sympathize with them. I know what it's like to be falsely accused of something."
With a straight face.
This weekend, the weekend before Thanksgiving, is always significant in our neck of the woods. It marks the Big Game, the annual faceoff between The Ohio State University and the university of michigan. The Game happens on Saturday, and for some reason, Friday is on my husband's List of Party Nights (other Party Nights include: the night before Thanksgiving and the night Daylight Savings Time ends - the fall-back one, not the spring ahead one. He SWEARS these are popular nights to go out and drink. I don't know if he's correct or not, or where he gets this information. Even if he's right, the List has got to be from when he was in college. 25 years ago.).
Anyway.
Three years ago, on the Friday night of this Big Game weekend, J let me know he was going out for a few beers with some co-workers. I wasn't interested, so I just went straight home from work. I ended up going to bed pretty early, and was just drifting off to sleep at 9:15 when the phone rang. It was J. Calling to tell me he had been arrested and was spending the night in jail.
He wasn't making much sense; he had apparently taken Party Night pretty seriously, and all he could tell me was that he got arrested for kicking someone's car. He expected to be released the next morning at around 9, but would call me in the morning when he knew for sure. I told him I'd pick him up whenever he was able to leave, and I would talk to him the next day.
Just as a quick disclaimer, while he was definitely drunk, he was not driving and had no plans to drive. He was drinking downtown near work, and would have taken the bus home from the bar.
15 minutes later, the phone rang again. J again, calling to ask me to record the Big Game just in case he wasn't set free in time.
In my head I said, "What kind of jail are you in that you're allowed to call home & ask me to record the game?"
Out loud I said, "Of course I will record the game. But don't worry, you'll be home by then. I'll see you tomorrow."
The next morning, he called to say he was being let out and I could come get him. This happened to be our weekend with the kids, so we'd end up going straight from the jail to pick them up (I know, right?). So I got in the van & drove downtown and went inside to get him.
The guard at the desk: "Can I help you?"
Becky: "I'm here to pick up my husband."
Guard: "Where is he?"
Becky: "He, um, spent the night here, if you know what I mean."
Guard: "And he's been released?"
Becky: "That's what he said when he called me."
Guard: "Why isn't he down here waiting?"
Becky: "I don't know. I've never done this sort of thing before. Should he be waiting?"
Guard: "Usually they're down here in the lobby. Let me call upstairs and see what's going on."
So he calls upstairs, and when he hangs up, he's all "I don't know what's going on but they said you have to go upstairs to get him. This is really weird. Go up to the 6th floor to pick him up."
I head up to the 6th floor, use a phone to let someone know I'm there, and another guard comes out with a piece of paper for me to sign. I start signing my name and he just says "You have no idea what you're signing, do you?"
What the fuck, man? What's the worst it could be? Am I trading my husband's freedom for my own? I kind of doubt it. What is up with you guys going out of your way to stress me out?
I looked at the form I was signing and all it was was a bond agreement; if J didn't show up for his court date I would be held responsible. Fine, whatever, give me my husband back.
They go to get J, and when he comes down the hall towards me he looks AWFUL. He has only re-laced one of his shoes, his hair is all matted, his eyes have huge bags under them. I've never seen him look so horrible before or since.
We get in the van and he starts fretting about how getting arrested is going to result in him losing his job, which in turn is going to mean he can't buy Christmas presents, which in turn will mean that all his children will hate him.
He obviously didn't get a very good night's sleep. I convince him to just take it one step at a time, and for now we'll just concentrate on resting. We get the kids, get everyone home, and J posts up on the couch for the Game.
Later, I finally get the full story:
After Happy Hour festivities had come to an end, J made his way to the bus stop to get a ride home. While he was standing there, a guy pulled up and parked his car right in front of the bus shelter - a no-parking zone. J said something to the guy, who basically just flipped him off and walked away. J may or may not have (he probably did) kicked the car's rear fender. Not hard, just making a statement. No damage.
By the way, this particular bus stop is basically right across the street from the justice center/police station/jail.
Within minutes, a bus pulled up, couldn't get all they way to the curb because of the car, so J stepped into the street to board. He had one foot on the bus, and suddenly felt himself getting pulled backwards by several cops. He was arrested & taken in for the night.
(Our theory is that the guy who parked there was an off-duty officer who just ran in and sent his buddies out to get J for kicking his car.)
J was never given a copy of his police report, but got one look at it. It stated that he was resisting arrest, taunting a police officer, wouldn't stop yelling after being asked to stop. None of this is true or even believable. He'd been drinking, but wasn't wasted. This happened before 9 PM. He isn't a belligerent drunk. None of the accusations made sense at all.
He showed up for his court date, and hired a lawyer who pretty much agreed with our off-duty officer theory. He helped J get into a first-time-offenders program, which involved a few months of probation, and then his record got expunged.
5 months and several hundred dollars later, the whole thing was over. But J was left with a bad impression of police officers for a while. The best part was when the end of his probation kind of dovetailed with the Duke lacrosse team being exonerated of rape charges, and J had this to say about the news:
"I can sympathize with them. I know what it's like to be falsely accused of something."
With a straight face.
Posted by
Becky
comments (1)
Wednesday afternoon, I was sitting at work contemplating the evening ahead of me. J was going to be officiating some basketball games, so I didn't expect to see him. My biggest decision was which hated-by-him, loved-by-me meal was I going to prepare for dinner? I have some pierogies in the freezer, but I also have a meatloaf recipe that's been calling my name.
At 3:30, I got a call on my cell phone from my nephew Noah. His class was having a bake sale, and he wanted some help baking a cake. The sale was scheduled for today and tomorrow, so he had to bake last night. The proceeds were going to the family of a student at his school, whose brother has cancer. The fundraising effort was named "Pennies for P_____" with P_______ being the kid's last name (I never did find that out; Noah couldn't remember it or find it in a directory).
I asked what he wanted to make & was surprised at how ready he was with an answer. His idea: A half-white, half-chocolate cake, frosted in chocolate. White writing spelling out "Pennies for P_____", and coins drawn in yellow icing. At this point he was still pretty confident he could get the kid's name.
So I cancelled my dinner-alone plans and kept my pants on when I got home from work, and headed out to help Noah. I wasn't really sure what to get to decorate the cake with - I wanted to be able to use some kind of decoration so we wouldn't have to do hand-drawn coins. I started at Target, went through their grocery, party, scrapbooking, and other departments, and found nothing to do with money. I came up with the awesome idea of chocolate coins, but was faced with the not-awesome absence of them in the candy aisle.
I headed to Michael's. They have a whole cake-decorating section. I was able to get some sparkly gold & green icing to write with, so at least we'd be able to make some shiny coins and dollar signs if worse came to worse. I went through stamps, stickers, beads, felt, toys, and no coins anywhere in the store! Noah called me while I was there; it was getting late and he was worried that I wasn't coming. I assured him I was just looking for one last thing and I'd be there. When I checked out I asked the cashier if they had chocolate coins. They don't. She said they're seasonal. I was like, yeah, they're a Christmas/Hanukkah item... we were standing right next to all the Christmas candy. She didn't seem to make the connection.
BUT. There is a World Market in the same shopping center. I have bought chocolate coins there for stocking stuffers before. It's worth a shot, right? I went in, headed back to the candy aisle, and was just about to give up when there, on the bottom shelf, I spotted gold. And then I spotted COPPER. They had entire bags of chocolate PENNIES. When the cashier asked me if I found everything I needed, it was all I could do just to say yes, and not kiss him full on the lips.
I got to Steve's at about 7:30 & got straight to work. Noah mixed up the chocolate cake and Darby mixed up the white. We poured the half & half batter into both pans and started baking (did you know that to bake a half & half cake you just pour the two kinds of batter into the pan at the same time? They meet in the middle but don't mix). There was much fidgeting while we waitied for them to bake, and then even more as they got cool enough to frost. But finally, we did it.
Noah handled the writing on one cake; he wrote in big letters "Help a Friend" and stuck 2 pennies into each piece. Emily wrote on the other cake. She included the "Help a Friend" text but wrote smaller so she could add "Make a Change" (geddit? pennies? change? Noah's idea, but Em liked it because it's also a Michael Jackson lyric) and some other doodles. Noah added the coins to that cake and we took some pictures.
I stuck around to watch the end of Glee with the kids, then headed home happy.
Thursday afternoon I got another call from Noah. The cakes sold out FAST. He said he raised $30 on his own, and his class raised over $200. There's still another day of the sale, and the rest of the school is doing other fundraising for the same family.
I am so proud of this kid. When the bake sale was planned, he had no interest in plain old brownies or cookies. He came up with this whole above-and-beyond design, and was genuinely excited about it. Rachael said he was really proud to take those cakes into school this morning. And he was so happy to have sold out he was talking about making two more cakes to sell today. He is so freaking awesome.
In other news, Darby & I are heading down to visit my dad in the southern part of the state. He has dial-up Internet access, and is lucky to achieve a 28.8kpbs connection. So I will be tweeting from my phone but will have to catch up on reading blogs when I get back to the Big City Sunday night.
Have a great weekend!
At 3:30, I got a call on my cell phone from my nephew Noah. His class was having a bake sale, and he wanted some help baking a cake. The sale was scheduled for today and tomorrow, so he had to bake last night. The proceeds were going to the family of a student at his school, whose brother has cancer. The fundraising effort was named "Pennies for P_____" with P_______ being the kid's last name (I never did find that out; Noah couldn't remember it or find it in a directory).
I asked what he wanted to make & was surprised at how ready he was with an answer. His idea: A half-white, half-chocolate cake, frosted in chocolate. White writing spelling out "Pennies for P_____", and coins drawn in yellow icing. At this point he was still pretty confident he could get the kid's name.
So I cancelled my dinner-alone plans and kept my pants on when I got home from work, and headed out to help Noah. I wasn't really sure what to get to decorate the cake with - I wanted to be able to use some kind of decoration so we wouldn't have to do hand-drawn coins. I started at Target, went through their grocery, party, scrapbooking, and other departments, and found nothing to do with money. I came up with the awesome idea of chocolate coins, but was faced with the not-awesome absence of them in the candy aisle.
I headed to Michael's. They have a whole cake-decorating section. I was able to get some sparkly gold & green icing to write with, so at least we'd be able to make some shiny coins and dollar signs if worse came to worse. I went through stamps, stickers, beads, felt, toys, and no coins anywhere in the store! Noah called me while I was there; it was getting late and he was worried that I wasn't coming. I assured him I was just looking for one last thing and I'd be there. When I checked out I asked the cashier if they had chocolate coins. They don't. She said they're seasonal. I was like, yeah, they're a Christmas/Hanukkah item... we were standing right next to all the Christmas candy. She didn't seem to make the connection.
BUT. There is a World Market in the same shopping center. I have bought chocolate coins there for stocking stuffers before. It's worth a shot, right? I went in, headed back to the candy aisle, and was just about to give up when there, on the bottom shelf, I spotted gold. And then I spotted COPPER. They had entire bags of chocolate PENNIES. When the cashier asked me if I found everything I needed, it was all I could do just to say yes, and not kiss him full on the lips.
I got to Steve's at about 7:30 & got straight to work. Noah mixed up the chocolate cake and Darby mixed up the white. We poured the half & half batter into both pans and started baking (did you know that to bake a half & half cake you just pour the two kinds of batter into the pan at the same time? They meet in the middle but don't mix). There was much fidgeting while we waitied for them to bake, and then even more as they got cool enough to frost. But finally, we did it.
Noah handled the writing on one cake; he wrote in big letters "Help a Friend" and stuck 2 pennies into each piece. Emily wrote on the other cake. She included the "Help a Friend" text but wrote smaller so she could add "Make a Change" (geddit? pennies? change? Noah's idea, but Em liked it because it's also a Michael Jackson lyric) and some other doodles. Noah added the coins to that cake and we took some pictures.
I stuck around to watch the end of Glee with the kids, then headed home happy.
Thursday afternoon I got another call from Noah. The cakes sold out FAST. He said he raised $30 on his own, and his class raised over $200. There's still another day of the sale, and the rest of the school is doing other fundraising for the same family.
I am so proud of this kid. When the bake sale was planned, he had no interest in plain old brownies or cookies. He came up with this whole above-and-beyond design, and was genuinely excited about it. Rachael said he was really proud to take those cakes into school this morning. And he was so happy to have sold out he was talking about making two more cakes to sell today. He is so freaking awesome.
In other news, Darby & I are heading down to visit my dad in the southern part of the state. He has dial-up Internet access, and is lucky to achieve a 28.8kpbs connection. So I will be tweeting from my phone but will have to catch up on reading blogs when I get back to the Big City Sunday night.
Have a great weekend!
Posted by
Becky
comments (3)
Sorry for the absence; I know you've all been just dying to know what I've been up to. Here's one update:
The job interview I tweeted about a couple weeks ago went pretty well, but the more I talked with them, the more I realized I really don't want to leave where I work now. The position I was interviewing for would have been a straight lateral move to a smaller firm, so it really wouldn't have been worth giving up my seniority, vacation time, and ability to travel. Plus, the recruiter who arranged it all was HORRIBLE. Here are some of the highlights of my dealings with her:
- She left me 2 initial voicemails before I called her back. In neither of these voicemails did she state the name of her company or even tell me she was a headhunter. She said she was calling about a "job opportunity". I Googled her phone number and it came up as a private residence. I called her back on a Saturday, sure I was about to get some side work. Her outgoing message also didn't say anything about the name of her business. I spoke very informally, as I do when I'm setting up time to work on someone's home PC.
- When she told me about the firm she was trying to place me at, she said they have about 300 lawyers, and named 3 in-state cities where they have offices. She gave me their URL so I could do my own research.
- The URL was outdated, from before they went to a single name (several years ago, the trend for law firms was to use 3 and 4 names, then they all dropped to 1 or 2. My firm did it in 2002.).
- Their website only listed 2 of the 3 cities she had mentioned, and about 140 lawyers.
- When I met with her in person, she asked what my impression of the firm was from their website. I remarked that it seemed much smaller than where I am now - it's a little less than half the size - and while that wasn't a negative, per se, it would be an adjustment.
- She stood by her 300 lawyers claim, and when I said that one city she had named wasn't listed, she insisted I look again, because she was sure.
- She also suggested I "put a little lipstick on" for my interview.
- I looked again. I googled {firm name} {city name} just to be sure I got them both together. My search results told me that the firm used to have an office in that city, but the WHOLE OFFICE defected to a competitior.
- In 2000.
- Nine (9) years ago.
- After my interview, I called her to check in, and I hadn't been able to talk with one of the 3 people I was supposed to. We were going to reschedule, so I let her know that. She asked me why the 3rd person was unavailable, in a tone that implied that I had any reason to know this. (I have no reason to know that.) She hadn't spoken to anyone at the frm by that time, and told me she would call when she had a date for the second interview.
- She didn't call me until 8 days later.
- I didn't even return the call.
By that point, I was so appalled at all of the stuff I listed plus so much more, that I would have turned down my dream job with a 6-figure salary just to keep her from profiting from it.
Posted by
Becky
comments (1)
I'm taking tomorrow & Monday off work to fly down to Charleston, SC for the weekend. My best friend's cousin is getting married there, and so I'm flying down for that. It sounds kind of weird to go out of state for a friend's cousin, but this entire family - 3 generations - came to my wedding. They're like my extended family. And they are the most fun people I know, and I can't fucking WAIT to get down there.
Making it even better is that I'm flying down for free - cashed in all my frequent flier miles - and when I talked to the bride about looking for someplace to stay, she was all "Stay at my house! I won't be there!" So it's like a free weekend - even a few meals are covered. Sweet! I just have to get all my available cash together for a suitable gift.
Oh, and it's like 40 degrees warmer there than it is at home. J will be refereeing football in this miserable weather and I will wearing SHORTS!
Making it even better is that I'm flying down for free - cashed in all my frequent flier miles - and when I talked to the bride about looking for someplace to stay, she was all "Stay at my house! I won't be there!" So it's like a free weekend - even a few meals are covered. Sweet! I just have to get all my available cash together for a suitable gift.
Oh, and it's like 40 degrees warmer there than it is at home. J will be refereeing football in this miserable weather and I will wearing SHORTS!
Posted by
Becky
comments (4)
Once upon a time, I'm guessing at least a couple of months ago, there was a jar of peanut butter. That jar of peanut butter got finished off, and set to soak on the counter so that it could be added to the recycling bag.
Except it didn't get added to the recycling bag. No one will ever be sure exactly what happened or when, but my best guess is that when one of the kids was straightening up the kitchen, they picked up the peanut butter jar and put it away, in the pantry.
Until last night.
J got home from a meeting and decided to make a couple PB&J sandwiches for himself. Except instead of grabbing a peanut butter jar with actual peanut butter in it, he picked up a peanut butter jar with many-weeks-old water in it.
The smell. Oh good lord, the smell.
I came down to say hi while he was in the kitchen and starting checking the floor because I was sure the cat had shit somewhere. When I couldn't find anything, I asked him what it was, and he explained that he had opened this stagnant jar and immediately started gagging. And in the process had spilled some of the water onto the floor or something. He had already cleaned up whatever spilled by the time I got to the scene. But the smell remained.
And it remained on J, and came with him up to bed. And filled the room. Even after several hand-washings.
The smell stayed in the house all night. It is worse than rotten potatoes. It is worse than a pile of dead mice. I don't even know where it is anymore; the towels he used have been thrown out or put in the laundry, the garbage has been changed, the counters & floor have been wiped down. But this morning, as I was getting my coffee ready, it was still strong enough to make me retch.
Part of that is psychosomatic, I know now, since as I write this I am fighting not to gag.
J is going straight from work to Nicole's volleyball game, and from there to an officiating class. He won't be back in the house until after 10 tonight. I get to deal with The Smell this evening.
The worst part? It was a jar of crunchy peanut butter. I eat creamy. There is no way that any of this was my doing. And I am the one who will be scouring the kitchen with my shirt pulled up over my nose all night. So not fair.
Except it didn't get added to the recycling bag. No one will ever be sure exactly what happened or when, but my best guess is that when one of the kids was straightening up the kitchen, they picked up the peanut butter jar and put it away, in the pantry.
Until last night.
J got home from a meeting and decided to make a couple PB&J sandwiches for himself. Except instead of grabbing a peanut butter jar with actual peanut butter in it, he picked up a peanut butter jar with many-weeks-old water in it.
The smell. Oh good lord, the smell.
I came down to say hi while he was in the kitchen and starting checking the floor because I was sure the cat had shit somewhere. When I couldn't find anything, I asked him what it was, and he explained that he had opened this stagnant jar and immediately started gagging. And in the process had spilled some of the water onto the floor or something. He had already cleaned up whatever spilled by the time I got to the scene. But the smell remained.
And it remained on J, and came with him up to bed. And filled the room. Even after several hand-washings.
The smell stayed in the house all night. It is worse than rotten potatoes. It is worse than a pile of dead mice. I don't even know where it is anymore; the towels he used have been thrown out or put in the laundry, the garbage has been changed, the counters & floor have been wiped down. But this morning, as I was getting my coffee ready, it was still strong enough to make me retch.
Part of that is psychosomatic, I know now, since as I write this I am fighting not to gag.
J is going straight from work to Nicole's volleyball game, and from there to an officiating class. He won't be back in the house until after 10 tonight. I get to deal with The Smell this evening.
The worst part? It was a jar of crunchy peanut butter. I eat creamy. There is no way that any of this was my doing. And I am the one who will be scouring the kitchen with my shirt pulled up over my nose all night. So not fair.
