F-150s, Cyclists and Plumbers

Believe it or not I cannot find any suitable quotes or partial lyrics to describe today's events! To say the day has been ridiculous is quite an understatement.

So where do I begin today's rantings???....should I begin with the broken flopper ball arm? You know that thing inside the toilet tank that ensures the water stops running once it reaches a certain level?? Or should I start with that “incident” while going up my bad botox road...Sorry I meant the poor excuse for road repairs? hhmmmm.... decisions, decisions, decisions! Let me flip a coin...

Okay, let me do this chronologically, starting with the encounter with a bicycle man who chats waaaaaay too much! Now, here I was minding my own business while debating with my "yam man" who brings the best “Renta” yams all the way from Portland.  In spite of the fact that he transports them as is with a ¼ pound of dirt on them (I swear part of the weight is attributed to the dirt on it) he undoubtedly has the “best” yams around and we get into “serious” discussions every week practically on which is the “best piece” to buy.

Anyway, along comes this loud mouth, copper-coloured chatterbox on a bicycle, with a number of bags on the crossbar. Typical to many Jamdowners who are "blind" he never noticed that the man was actually serving a customer--me -- and began to ask for $30 a pound yam “di bes’ piece yuh have”.

Oney sells for $50 per pound while the other vendors or supermarket sells for at least $80 or more so CLEARLY Oney is the cheapest. Anyhow, he chatted and chatted about everything distracting the yam man and OBVIOUSLY he was not buying anything! Then he started to tell a story about being a country man and knowing good yams, yarda, yarda, yarda. No sooner had I collected my purchase and put them in a scandal bag he looks at me and says: "Mammy, mi and yuh come fram di same country" (I assure you this man is at least 60 years old…yet he calls me mammy..okay, I take it as a mark of respect)

"Excuse me?"

"Yeh man, mi and yuh come fram de same country, si we have di same colour brown yeye" .

 "Look" I told him "we are not from the same "country" at all" –

 "so wha'? yuh a tell mi sey you a Kingstonian? dat yuh born under di clock?"

"No, I was not born under a clock, I was born in a hospital in St. Andrew" -- Then, it hit me like a ton of bricks!!! WHY are you arguing with this moron???!!  He was only trying to "identify" with me because he thinks I am from St. Elizabeth due to my complexion and eye colour!!

I quickly took my change and left the area before he found something else to bring up.

So I got home and prepared a pot of soup. All is well...until I go to the bathroom and discover that there is a rushing waterfall in my toilet tank as the flopper ball arm is BROKEN! Now, why would I be so miffed? B-e-c-a-u-s-e the JACKASS PLUMBER who came to fix the Queen's bathroom only Thursday, yes two days ago, told me after examining mine that nothing needs changing! In fact, he opened the tank and ""bent" the arm! Needless to say that now the thing "bruk off"! So I have to replace the entire thing!

Now this has put me in a rather foul mood considering that JACKASS plumber bilked us out of $4300 -- btw, what is the difference between a dumb overpriced plumber and a lottery scam artist???...see NO DIFFERENCE!!! -- I decided to go to the Hardware and buy the darn thing and install it myself after all, it certainly does not seem like rocket science!

While walking up my botox-like road, I noticed a huge dark coloured, F-150 truck coming down the street...it stops, perhaps to pick someone up or let somebody out and proceeds further down the road. Stops and turns into a gate. Reverses.  Stops. Goes forward into the gate again.  Wheels a turning.
Backs up again and keeps reversing. All this time I am keenly observing this truck because I have never seen someone going up and down-back and forth so much just to head in the opposite direction! Anyway, while counting my steps and skipping over the areas of the road that could have been fixed better I held up my head just in time to see this truck backing up, backing up into a neighbour's gate....until WHAAAAAAAMM! Followed by a rather audible "Oh sh*t!!"

Now, whether that was in reference to stupidly crashing into the person's gate or the driver's explanation of what physically happened is beyond me. I only knew that somebody was in big trouble! I immediately picked up pace and tried to get out of the driver's path as the vehicle was in forward motion and I did not feel like being run over today ...or any other day for that matter.

After I thought I was at a safe distance I glanced around and realized the owner of the house came out LIVID! I did not hang around to see what transpired because I also did not feel like giving eyewitness testimony in court.

Soon the driver, a female, slightly bigger than me, emerges from the van and the heated discussion begins.

Question: WHY do folks - tiny women or puny/wimpy men- choose to purchase or drive vehicles they CANNOT manage? I see them ALLLLLL the time struggling to maneuver the units, not being able to park properly etc. etc. worse if they are suffering from cellulitis.

People, it’s not about profiling, just get something you can manage for crying out loud!!!! Of course, there are exceptions to every rule and so hats off to all the women and puny men out there that are able to really handle a big vehicle and not be a road hazard!! YAAAAAY!!

Do you think I am just being irrational or do I have just cause for ranting? Please leave me a comment and let me know!!