Imaginary Friends

I sometimes will catch a television show called Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends . . . which is about a shelter for when kids grow out of their imaginary friends.

And my life is sometimes quite segmented, yet I tell all these stories. And I'm beginning to wonder if people think I have imaginary friends. Matthew Good was on the radio today. Free regular radio. This new old person station that I have taken to listening to in the last few days. Because it is programmed in my mother's car. Matthew Good . . . singing on the radio . . . even though all my friends may think he is imaginary.

And I dragged poor E2 out with bop-bop. To show her that he was not imaginary. Real. Tall, skinny, depressed and really there. Likewise, to show bop-bop that I had friends and wasn't just making it up. Worlds collide.

So yeah, I'm not making this all up, my life that is. I might squige a little for dramatic effect . . . like just making up the word squige (like squid but with a geh sound instead of duh) . . . but it's not imaginary. Because sometimes, I think people don't believe me.

Asking for it?

Yet another window guy story:

So I'm standing in my living room with "Mark", who is wearing a "dress" T-shirt (like the ones boys wear to the bar to go with their gold necklaces and hair product), very nice shoes and a tattoo with an anagram on it. I am making the assumption that he owns a motorcycle. I am also assuming that he has seen the inside of Gusoline Alley. He has no I.D. but he has a binder with him.

As we are starting on the "hello"s and the handshake and the "would you like some water? . . . diet Coke?", he asks if "my husband is around" . . .

Now I should have not skipped a beat and said, "Yeah, Buck's in the basement . . . sharpening the knives . . . " but the comment threw me. Here is a man I don't know, that I just let into my house, who is asking if I'm alone. I instead made some quip about window companies and single women. He apologized and stated that he was required to ask that "because home improvement is a big decision that should be made by both parties". What a load of crap. Like I wouldn't share with Buck that I was buying new windows . . . I'm sure he would notice when they came to install them. (Actually, since Buck is imaginary I don't have to share much with him . . . imaginary husbands are very agreeable)

So I can't figure out if they ask (and they all ask) so they can figure out how much money you have . . . thus how much they can jack up the price . . . or if they have a "man" speech and a "chick" speech and he just wants to know which to start with. Or maybe they are planning the rape scenario . . . I don't know. But it's scary to say to strange men . . . yeah, no husband . . . without a large dog around anyway.

To his credit, "Mark" was the nicest window man yet. Didn't do the hard sell. Admitted that there was flux to the final, best price. Trusted my measurements and didn't walk all over my house. So maybe he was just flirting. Still, my brother is coming for tomorrow's estimate. Enough of this bulls#*t.

Hate Window Estimates

Being the genius girl that I am . . . I measured all the windows in my house and created an Excel spreadsheet, with pictures, so I could just go to places and GET estimates for new windows.

I don't want anyone to come to my house . . . I don't want to get asked about my husband . . . (my imaginary husband for the window people is now named BUCK by the way, though I may go with Horatio) . . . I don't want to spend "just an hour" looking at the cut up window . . . I don't want to feel the "heat through the e2 glass" . . .

I just want someone to tell me how much a window that will fit a 36 1/4 x 54 inch hole will be and how much they want to install it. No one will give me a window by window price . . . no one will tell me how much of the price is window and how much is installation. I know how much windows are at the Home Depot . . . and I figure it's about that price again for installation but I just had a guy quote me 12,000 dollars for 15 windows. 12 THOUSAND dollars . . . that's as expensive as Pella wood windows. These were vinyl . . . nice vinyl but still vinyl. AND he wanted me to sign on the line, right then. "Why do you need to get all those estimates?" "But the 10% discount won't be good after today."

Is it just because I don't have someone named Horatio sitting next to me? Is it the muppet hair? I really can't do math in my head but COME ON, I do have access to a calculator and I can read the price tags at the home improvement store. I just want an itemized estimate for windows and I don't want to sit through an hour long sales pitch IN MY LIVING ROOM. Why can't I just go to the window store and get that?

My imaginary husband Horatio is going to come home and kick your ass, window man . . . and then you might have to deal with Buck.