Guest Blog Post – Is that my house?

Guest Blog

Brandon Miller

Editor’s Note: Brian Murphy gave Jessica Simpson his phone number at Congressional yesterday and is currently sitting by the phone convinced she is going to call any minute now, so today we bring you a special guest column from Brandon Miller. It goes without saying that all persons mentioned herein are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.]

It all started on a normal Monday afternoon. I had just stopped at the grocery store to pick up some items for dinner, and while I’m standing in the check-out line my phone rings. My wife, sounding more than a little flustered, is speaking a hundred miles a minute. I can only make out every few words, which are “your dad,” “police,” “guns” and “face down.”

Feeling obligated to finish my transaction and leave the store, I hustle out the door and call back to find out what the hell is going on. Our second attempt at a phone call goes about as successfully as try number one.

“Your brother is on the other line,” she said. “He just finished talking to the police. I’ll call you back.”

And then I hear a dial tone.

(A little back story: I live in a house next to my parent’s house that my wife and I built years ago. My 74-year-old grandmother lives on the other side of my folks and my brother lives three houses down. Just thought that’s something you should know.)

Five minutes go by and still nothing.

At this point I’m half expecting to see a Smokey and the Bandit-like road block once I get back home.

Finally, my wife calls me catches me up to speed.

“Your dad is face down in our side yard with a police officer pointing a gun at him,” she said.

This, as they say in the business, was a bit unexpected. You see, my father is a big man. And unless there is a secret society of 350-pound ninjas, I’m confused as to what, exactly, my old man has done to end up in this position.

“The plumber your father hired is in handcuffs and police officers are questioning his three Latino laborers,” she said.

At that point I decide to swing by my brother’s house, instead of heading straight home. Turns out it was a wise move, since my street was blocked off by a cavalry of cop cars and a helicopter was flying overhead by the time I got there.

I ask my wife to join me there, at which point she informed me she’d instructed our two young daughters to head upstairs and lie on the floor because she wasn’t sure what was going on. I swear, you can’t make this shit up.

Once I got to my brother’s place I finally get caught up to speed. Turns out the plumber had hired two Latino gentlemen to do some work in my father’s front yard. These two men decided, without the consent of said plumber, to bring a friend to help on the job. At the end of the day the plumber paid the men the money they’d agreed on. That’s when the third worker said they were owed more.

The plumber told them that he only hired two workers and that everyone had agreed on the price for the job and that it was their decision to additional workers into the equation. Not his decision, not his problem.

So the third worker pulled a knife. The plumber refused to budge and, at some point during the “negotiations,” produced a gun to help back his stance. He informed the three workers that he didn’t take kindly to being threatened and “politely” asked them to leave the property immediately.

Once the smoke finally cleared I headed home with my family to see my dad giving a statement to two policemen while the plumber was in the back of one of the patrol cars waiting for a ride downtown.

A buddy shows up at my house and is greeted by my six-year-old daughter, who says, “My granddaddy was arrested.”

What do you say at that point?

The evening ended with a family dinner at my parent’s place, in which my father attempted to catch everyone up to speed using humor to make light of the entire ordeal. My church-going/law-abiding mother was not amused and cut him off mid-sentence pleading that we drop it and never speak of it again.

So with respect to her wishes lets not talk of this again.

Ever.

Brandon Miller is a grown up version of Milhouse Van Houten from The Simpsons.

Similar Posts:

Comments (1)
  1. Joelle July 2, 2009

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *