So, Stacey and I are sitting out on the front porch having a cocktail. It’s about dark and like any good southern I’m on my third martini by then. All the sudden we hear a fuss coming from somewhere close. It’s coming from across the street and it sounded angry. Shit, goddamn, motherfucker, you no good yellow-belly sap sucker! We quickly realized it was our neighbors pet-sitter, and she was having trouble getting in the house. She is also so our pet-sitter and my friend. So, naturally I asked if she was o.k. Well, actually, Stacey asked her if all was o.k.
Anyway, next thing I know, I’m explaining to my neighbors neighbor that it is in fact o.k. if we break into this guys house because she, my friend, is the pet-sitter and she is locked out.
Of course I have called my neighbor, the guy who owned the house I was about to break into. He informed me that the sitter had left a few messages that had transgressed from pleads to threats of murder, if he didn’t answer his “goddamn”. phone, and tell her where the “fucking” keys were. He asked me to please help the sitter get in and that there was only one window to get in. He further explained that his new 50″ plasma TV was hanging on the wall right under this window. Please, oh god please, he begged, don’t jump on my TV.
Like I said, I love to have a martini, but after three, can ya really expect me to be able to climb a ladder, open a window and jump in the window and miss the the TV directly under the window ?
It was my neighbors lucky day!