Van Halen can take that "Ice Cream Man" song and shove it.

So, the last time the butch Schwan’s lady came to visit the house, she pretty well creeped me out. This had something to do with the fact that she came on her day off, repeatedly pounded on the door, and then proceeded to call my cell-phone (Yeah, I was hiding in the kitchen because she had just been at the house TWO DAYS EARLIER and I didn’t want anything then) and says something about how she saw my car in the driveway and wanted to know if I needed any chicken breasts or anything?

She had already been pushing my “weirdo alarm” buttons (which is saying a lot), so this was the last straw. I sent an email to the Schwan’s company about her, and told them that there was absolutely no way I was ever having home delivery from their company again. If I needed something, I’d wait until I saw a lazy driver set-up in the Wal-Mart parking lot and make my purchases there. And yes. I really did say that.

Well, they respond to me, all apologetic about it. Then they tell me they have forwarded my email TO THE DRIVER. WHAT?! Why in the hell would you do this? Dudes. I hate it when this happens at work too. You send an email to someone’s supervisor about something, and the next thing you know, the supervisor is fucking forwarding the email to the very person you were bitching about. Thanks. That defeats the whole damn purpose. If I wanted to let that person know how I felt directly, I would’ve just told them.

Anyway, I just about died when I read this but I guess I ultimately didn’t give much of a shit about it. I wasn’t ever going to see her again. Right?

Well, last Friday I was driving home from work, and who do I see driving by the house very slowly? THE SCHWAN’S TRUCK. Of course, I totally turned off on a side road and drove around the block going about 2 miles an hour. Which probably prompted a call to the Altoona Police Department from one of the neighbors.

She didn’t stop (or at least didn’t leave the catalog for me to “tour”) so I’m kinda hoping that was a last ditch effort to sell me chicken breasts. If not, more extreme measures will be taken. These will involve mature actions like throwing shit at her.