Incurring the Wrath

Now, in the event I haven't exactly explained this fully, sweet Ms. Angie has a super-thick Southern drawl. And, when she is upset, she tends to speed up that drawl and throw in colloquialisms to the point where I am totally sure she has something important to say. But, I never exactly know what it is, with me only catching the all important words: "rent check." As she is doing this, I am left half-wondering if her angst is directed at me and if I should be cowering in fear.

On Monday, it was one of those Ms. Angie is upset days. You see, her rent check hadn't arrived. I knew this on Saturday. But, Saturday I was way too preoccupied with hugging my family and unpacking my socks to care much. My intention was to take care of it Monday.

Ms. Angie beat me to it. Of course, Ms. Angie (as much as I adore her--and I do), like most of my tenants hasn't quite grasped the concept of time zones. So, the call came at an hour advantageous to her. Couple that with the aforementioned speech challenges and you can have a mental picture of me in my jammies repeatedly muttering "yes ma'am" to something I am not quite sure I am understanding.

When the dust settled and she and I were communicating properly, it turns out she wanted to know if I had received her rent. She had noticed the check hadn't been cashed.

You see, it turns out she and the postman had a scrape recently and none of her bills are getting to their respective parties. Me included. Ms. Angie (apparently) is none-too-pleased about this particular situation.

So, she was going to mosey on down to the post office and have a word with the postmaster. If I were the postmaster, I would be afraid.