The One Where I Scare the Oil Man
Procrastination is a shared flaw between Sean and me. If it isn’t pressing, we won’t worry too much just yet. We are trying our darndest to break this habit.
To bad it didn’t happen before one of us got hurt.
Ok, that’s a tad dramatic…no one was physically harmed, but my dignity was lost, and the oil man may be emotionally scarred.
It all started about a year ago, when our oil man noted that we didn’t use as much oil as other homes. He suggested that we move to a “call as you need it” basis, rather than auto delivery. We were all for it. And it worked, the first time, but not the times after that.
So instead of fussing with a company we paid too much, too often, for, we spoke with a new company at the end of the summer. When we weren’t going to need oil for a while. Which means there wasn’t any rush to call the old company right?
Suddenly no rush became too late. We arrived home to a yellow receipt from the old company. Nuts.
I guess that’s ok. We’ll call before the next delivery, we’ve got some time. And the new company will wait until we call them.
Another yellow receipt. Ok, for real now, we HAVE to call them.
…and another. Ok, this is ridiculous, we need to call them.
Flash forward to me last week, home from work sick, cozied up in my pjs and robe watching TV. And I hear these back up beeps…coming from my driveway.
Oh no.
So out I run in my pajamas, pink fuzzy robe, glasses, and uncombed hair. I forget what shoes I threw on, but they didn’t add to the outfit. I dash around the corner of the house and catch him right before he hooks up the line. I explain in my stuffy, nasal sick voice that we don’t need oil, that we’re supposed to be on the other plan…etc, etc.
He gives me this disapproving scan with his eyes, and grumbles something about paying for his trip, then stalks back to his truck. I slink back into the house, trying not to picture the crazy bathrobe lady he had just witnessed.
I called up the old company right away and cancelled our account. The phone call took less than 5 minutes. Maybe next time I’ll learn my lesson before I make a complete and utter spectacle of myself.
