Today a customer asked me to tell her the weirdest service call I’ve ever had. There are a lot of candidates, but this is the one that sprung to mind:<\/p>\n
It was a hot August afternoon and a woman in southern Bellevue called me from her neighbor’s phone, saying she was locked out of her condo. I took down her address, quoted her a price and an ETA, and fired up my van.<\/p>\n
When I arrived at the apartment complex I quickly located the right building and unit but did not find a stranded customer. I walked around for a few minutes and didn\u2019t see her anywhere. Then I called the neighbor whose phone she had used to contact me in the first place. The neighbor came right out and recounted her interaction with the woman. She said, \u201cYeah, it was weird. She was limping and her arms were all scraped up. And she had two little dogs with her. I\u2019ve never seen her before. I have no idea where she went.\u201d I thanked her, did a sweeping scan of the complex one last time, and walked back to my van to get on with my day.<\/p>\n
I was just pulling out of the parking lot when I saw an older woman sitting under a Japanese maple tree with a couple of dogs. I parked the van again and approached her. She gave me a look of happy recognition the moment she saw me. Up close, I could see that the dogs were a dachshund and a Chihuahua. She looked generally disheveled and she wasn\u2019t wearing any shoes. And, like the neighbor said, her arms and legs had been bleeding. She looked kind of like a vagrant.<\/p>\n
We introduced ourselves and she escorted me to her door. It was not the address she had given me over the phone, which I pointed out to her. \u201cOh,\u201d she said. \u201cI guess I misspoke.\u201d\u00a0 I was suspicious. As is routine, I asked her for ID. She lifted her hands, palms to the sky, and told me it was inside. That\u2019s not unusual. People don\u2019t always make sure they have ID on them before they accidentally lock themselves out. But I was already a little dubious about the whole thing and wondering if I should just wish her well and move on. Instead I squinted at her like David Carradine playing the role of a Chinese monk in that old TV show, and thought to pepper her with one last round of questions. She broke pretty easily.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did you get your own address wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, it\u2019s not really my place,\u201d she said, as if she were confiding in me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?! Then I can\u2019t let you in!\u201d I said, exasperated.<\/p>\n
Immediately she realized her error. \u201cOhhh, nooo! You\u2019ve gotta let me in! Pleeeeease let me in!\u201d she begged.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t let you in to a property that\u2019s not yours.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s my daughter\u2019s place. I\u2019m here dogsitting.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is she? Can we call her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think so. She\u2019s in Tahiti. And I don\u2019t know her number. It\u2019s in my phone, and my phone is inside.\u201d<\/p>\n
This was all plausible, but it didn\u2019t explain why she looked like she\u2019d just rolled out of a dumpster and then gotten into a fight with a bunch of alley cats, which then stole her shoes. I asked her what happened and she told me the story.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I went out on the balcony with the dogs and I didn\u2019t realize that the sliding door would lock behind me when I shut it. It was really hot up there. It\u2019s right in the sun and the floor was like a griddle. It was burning my feet. I was really afraid the dogs were going to overheat and die. I tried to use the propane tank from the grill to break the glass door but I couldn\u2019t swing it hard enough. I was really scared for the dogs. I was calling for help but nobody came. Finally I dropped the dogs one by one into the bush below. Then I jumped into the bush too. That\u2019s why I\u2019m all cut up. My shoes are inside. Normally I have shoes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShow me this balcony,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
We went around to the back of the building, the dogs scampering along behind her, and she pointed up at a second-story balcony. Underneath it was a large hedge that looked like it had been split in half. I was convinced.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs your purse inside the unit?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have an ID in there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe first thing we\u2019ll do when we get in is go to your purse and grab your ID.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure! Fine! No problem!\u201d<\/p>\n
I got the door open with little effort and the dogs bounded up the stairs inside the unit. My customer followed them up, limping the whole way. As if there was any remaining doubt, she got to the top of the stairs and pointed to her purse. Next to it was a tumbler filled to the middle with red wine. She pulled out her wallet, showed me her ID, and paid me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hope your daughter appreciates you,\u201d I told her before heading down the stairs and back to my van to get to the next job.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"