Tales from the O-NO Ranch | TheFencePost.com
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Tales from the O-NO Ranch

Mad Jack Hanks
Wellington, Colo.

Whoa! what happened? I woke up this morning to 17 degrees and snow when I went out to feed the ponies. Did I pull a Rip Van Winkle and sleep through the summer months? If I did, how was our summer, did you enjoy it? I reckon I just trusted Mother Nature to dish out some nice April weather with maybe some showers to grow May flowers. Didn’t happen; nope, gentle readers, we got a good dose of January weather.

Speaking of this cold weather, a couple of months ago I saw an ad in the paper that read, “two cords of firewood delivered for $150.” Sound too good to be true? I called and the young man told me he could bring me two cords of cut up pallets in 1-by-8-inch and 2-by-8-inch to 16-inch hard and soft wood. He would need cash, as some folks’ checks were no good. I told him to bring it on. I trusted him. I have a trusting nature most of the time for most folks and this guy sounded like someone I could trust.

Two hours later a dump truck pulled in the drive and ask where I wanted the wood dumped. The driver was the young man I talked to on the phone. He was nice looking, clean cut and well groomed for your usual firewood delivery guy. I showed him where to dump the wood as I wanted to stack it neatly at the end of my tack room. He backed the truck up, opened the back gate and lifted the bed and out came a load of wood, all kinds of wood in a cloud of dust.

There was no doubt that there was two cords or more there but I was a little concerned about the sizes and shape of some of the wood I was looking at. There seemed to be an awful lot of little, and I mean, little pieces and chunks of wood. I stepped up to the cab and said, “I think that you may have misrepresented your wood to me. It looks like there are a lot of little pieces in that pile. I wanted wood that I could neatly stack.

“Aw yeah, there will be a few pieces of small stuff, but not enough that you will notice. You got my money?” Reluctantly I handed him the 150, as I again took him at his word that there would just be a small amount of little pieces.

As he pulled out, I began to sift through the pile of wood and realized that it was mostly construction trash. I figured about 30 percent or more was little pieces 2 or 3 inches long. I got mad. I got mad at myself for being so trusting because I wanted this nice looking young man to be a cut above the rest and bring me exactly what I was told he would deliver.

There was really no way to stack this pile of wood. It came in every size and shape. It had a lot of nails in it and some pieces were over 3 feet long.

I called his office a little later and ask to speak to him, and his secretary (or whatever she was) said he wasn’t available. I told her to tell him that I was very unhappy with the wood and I would register a complaint with the Better Business Bureau. She said she would pass on the message. I had also ask her to have him call me. He never did. I found out that in order to register a complaint with the BBB, you have to go online and spend a lot of time doing stuff that I just didn’t feel like I should have to do just to register my complaint, so I didn’t do it.

Trust is a wonderful thing when it works. When your best friend, your mate or whoever turns out to be someone you can put your complete trust in, it’s a wonderful feeling. Trust, but verify!

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and I’ll c. ya.


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