Since it’s June, it must be Street Curb Numbering month. This is the time of year when various “well-meaning” “non-profit” “neighborhood-oriented” “community-based” folks want to paint my house’s address number on the curb outside of my home.
After dropping off the girls at school: I came home to this on my door knob:
It’s an ADVISORY NOTICE!!
Why are you screaming? You’re not official anything.
Blah blah blah.
Let me get this straight, you are going to paint over the numbers on my curb (which are already quite clear) with new paint?
They leave a leaflet on my door knob about how important it is that my house number be clear to First Responders in an emergency. For my family. Think of the Children. (LOL. They don’t read this blog, do they.)
Their service is free. But did they mention “donations are collected at the door.”
So, let me say to you. Thanks for the public service, but No Thank You.
Reading the fine print:
Should I expect rudeness?
Attention Curb Painter Professionals: Customer Service 101… Don’t let people know that they are going to be treated like crap. Literally in their own home. Just say: Expect to be bullied by a guy at the door demanding money for a service you did not request, then call us. And vent all you want to the wall. We’ve never seen this before. Never. I swear. Our business model is not based on this aspect. We are People people.
Now, I’ve watched The Sopranos, Goodfellas, The Godfather. Hell, I was born in northern Jersey. I know a shakedown when I see one.
Read this in the best mafioso voice you can muster:
The Collector: So, uh. We painted your curb for yous.
Me: I didn’t ask for that, but thanks.
The Collector: Yeah, but. You see, there’s a “donation” that we ask for. Twenty dollahs.
Me: But, I didn’t ask for you to do that. And, technically, the curb is City property.
The Collector: You know, we do this as a public service. It would be terrible if something happened to your beautiful house.
The Collector: And, the fire department or police couldn’t find it because you had no number on the curb.
Me: Yeah, but, it’s right there on the side of the house. Numbers on the street are sequential. Also, Google maps and all…
The Collector: It would be tragic if those numbers fell off. Like, in a wind storm…
Me: Wind storm?
The Collector: Yeah. Santa Ana winds. And, then a horrible thing happens here. Is that your daughter’s tricycle over there? Is that your beautiful wife I hear in the kitchen? I don’t know what I would do if something should befall dem.
Me: Um. I’m about to call 911.
The Collector: Good luck with that. They won’t find you. Ever… Twenty dollahs.
Me: Let me get my wallet.
[I’m going to go ahead and officially © copyright this. Because, I hear that Led Zeppelin is in town. And, also because this would be a hilarious bit in something. Why aren’t people asking me to write with them? Oh… Because I never asked…]