Lil’ Bro recently called to let me know his house in the ‘Boro had been vacated, and the tenants left a lot of their lives behind. That’s a really nice way of saying they had left all their crap.
Did they skip on the rent? Nope. Did they leave anything worth salvaging? Nope. Not unless the neighbors took an interest once it hit the garbage pile. And you know that old saying “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure”?
Yeah. Right.
I know its true in Hubs’ case for sure. He recently brought home a one-legged gas grill that looked like it had been left out in the rain for several years. He reckoned some nuts, bolts, a wooden leg and a can of spray paint would fix it right back up. It’s still sittin’ on the side of the house. Believe me, that ol’ hunkajunk ain’t nobody’s treasure.
Seems the tenants also left a fridge full of stuff, too, but nothing worth mentioning. By that I mean no free cheese or beer. So all of that was gonna have to go too, and the fridge needed a good scouring. Little pig, little pig, let me come in ...
He’s hanging on tight to that security deposit, though. Rightly so.
Hubs and I had a house that we rented out a few years back. Nice cozy little place tucked in the woods. Seemed like every three months or so whoever was living there would stop paying rent and then skip on outta town. In the course of about two years, we had close to five different people living in that place. The last couple was the last straw.
They were young, married, both had good jobs, seemed like a safe bet.
Since we had moved out of state by then (back to Eff Co), we weren’t able to keep an eye on it, just sort of stupidly let nature take its course. And as always, when you give someone the benefit of the doubt, you always get poked in the eye.
One day my telephone rings. It’s my favorite neighbor from that area.
“Say Ellie ... did those people renting your house move?”
“Gee, I dunno. Why do you ask?”
“Well, the door is open and there is stuff all over the yard...”
Of course I knew then that they had skipped on down the road. I asked her if she would mind going down there to see what was up.
She called back later that day and said she’d taken her five boys down there with her, and upon going up the steps, just felt sure she’d find a dead body in the house. Wonderful.
No dead body, just every single bit of stuff they owned. It was all there. Personal letters. Food still in the fridge.
Dirty dishes piled all over the kitchen. Clothes. Bibles and religious material. Suitcases strewn about the driveway. A great big hummin’ Rice Plantation four-poster bed with all the fixin’s. Unmade, of couse. Sheets, blankets, pillows ... all over the place. Obviously not livin’ life according to that Bible they’d left behind.
Hubs boarded a plane and flew back to check it out. I had told the neighbor to take what she wanted, if there was anything salvageable at all. Her kids had a flippin’ field day, like Christmas in the middle of July.
It took Hubs two solid weeks to clean up their mess. The first thing he noticed, though, was that they had taken the washer and dryer. The brand new washer and dryer we had installed.
He called the sheriff and the sheriff said, “Is that the place over on Pinion Circle?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Oh, well, I think I can tell you what happened,” as apparently he’d been called over there a couple of times to settle some “domestic disputes.”
After all was said and done, the chick had had enough and left with an overnight bag. The dude stayed another couple of days and then he left. She had been the one to throw all of his suitcases (with clothes) out in the driveway. He had been the one to make off with the washer and dryer, supposedly.
The sheriff actually knew where she’d gone, but no idea on the dude.
When Hubs tracked her down and managed to call her, he said he was gonna press charges because they’d stolen the washer and dryer. She claimed that they’d had to give them away because they didn’t work and that they’d had to use a new set given to them by their parents. Really? Where was the new set then?
Dude took it.
In its place, he’d left a 20-year-old washer and an even older dryer. Turns out he actually sold our washer and dryer, but we couldn’t find his silly butt anywhere to press charges.
Hubs chalked it up to our being “too nice” and was happy to be done with them. It was a not so nice lesson for us.
After doing some research, we found that they’d skipped out on several other places as well. The pictures I saw later that Hubs took looked like a pack of wild hogs had been living in the place.
I’m hoping Lil’ Bro’s place hasn’t met the same fate.
He’s busy cleaning out the pen, making way for the next batch of young college-bound piggums.
Maybe they’ll be the ones to leave the free cheese and beer.
