Shit just seems to happen there. Yeah, people fall down the stairs while stone sober. Visitors have to go to the ER and get emergency appendectomies. Wallets get lost, credit cards are lost. Granted, some of these events happen far, far away from the safe confines of Evergreen Road, but still, the "curse" seems to follow my father, for no apparent reason. If you are a steady blog reader of our sister publication, Hawaii 50.2, then you know all too well about a certain someone losing her wallet in Arizona.
You might not have heard how this poltergeist lost my Dad's wallet at a BP station north of Ft. Myers FL. OK, it's Fran. Fran is the poltergeist. Don't be shocked. So back to Florida. They were driving cross-country from Tucson to Fort Myers so that we could get together for a baseball tournament that Brian was in during his senior year at College of Wooster. Poor, dear Morgan was off being continental, taking a semester in Salzburg. I just picture her on the side of a mountain in some silly nun's habit singing. Or not. You know what? I digress. Sue me. So for some strange reason (and with Fran, all is strange), she leaves his wallet on the counter at this station while Dad stood there and used his BP card to pay for gas. Evidently, he took the card out of his wallet so that she could take the wallet and get something at the C-store. I don't know, it is all very cloudy. But when Dad gets to the hotel to check in, no wallet.
Le Freak, C'est Shiek! By the time I pull up to the hotel, Fran is standing in the middle of the parking lot, with one of those hotel carts, full o' luggage. No Dad to be seen. Dipshit is just standing there like she is looking for a black man in a a uniform to take her luggage to her cabin. I find Dad literally tearing apart the car. Of course, looking in places in the car that he had not touched since he packed the car back in Arizona. He is stumped. And she is fucking clueless. She didn't bother telling him at the time, or even as he was freaking out, that she had left the wallet on the counter while he stood there and paid for gas. Why would he even look to see that she had set it there? Why wouldn't she ask if he got the wallet she (stupidly) left there once they started to leave? Hey, poltergeists are mysterious.
But here is the recent one. The upstairs bathroom flooded this past week. Evidently they had to call in Servicemaster to clean up, pull carpet, etc. I haven't got the full scoop yet, but I cant wait! Frankly, I have no idea if the poltergeist made this occur, but I am all for blaming her. Shit, talk to her about a poltergeist, and she will ask you what you mean about chicken.
***Chicken? A tad too cerebral for us? This is how my brain works! Put it together. Poltergeist...Poultry....oh, I give up.
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