“Gypsies, tramps, and thieves”

La Hacienda de Hombre Grande (The estate of the ‘big man’) as I used to call our ‘Palatial Estate’…
It was a 30 year old 3900 sq ft brick rambler, with a full basement, on 7 wooded acres. Built personally by the original owner (poorly).
It had a 1/5 of a mile long, paved asphalt driveway.
When we took possession, there was the beginning of a pothole near the entrance. Later, When we replaced our shallow well, and had ‘City water’ hooked up, they of course had to cut a strip of it up in order to connect the water to the main.
It was a bit of a mess. I had purchased several 5 gal buckets of ‘cold patch’ to repair it.
Then one day I came back from a work trip to discover my double garage full of my Sister in laws household goods for storage. I would not see the interior of my garage for 3 years. (Yes, I’m still a little miffed about it)
I finally found those buckets of cold patch, a decade later, out in the woods, behind our storage shed.
But, I digress.

In the mean time, one day, while I was home, a truck with two men came all the way down our driveway. Which was unusual.
As our house wasn’t visible from the road we lived on.
They had a ‘Deal’ for me!
They would top the entire driveway with a 1/4” of asphalt, for ‘only’ $1600.00. Which I knew was B.S.

I walked them down to the street entrance and showed them my ever expanding pot/construction hole, and told them;
“If you just patch this area, and top this first section, I’ll give you $600.00.”
We had an agreement, or so I thought.
When they started the work, I walked down and looked at their equipment, which was beat up and not really maintained to the level it should have been.
Being a former LEO, I wrote down all of their license plate numbers, expirations, vehicle makes, and types.
They were not really pleased with that.

At some point the crew finished work, and left. I couldn’t tell when that exactly was because the entrance of the driveway wasn’t visible from my house.
My buddy Bob, showed up and noticed the ‘new asphalt’ as he was driving down to the house.
Upon arrival, he asked about it.
I decided we should go and inspect the work.
As we were walking down the driveway, I was met by an older woman whom was my neighbor. Their house was off about 150 ft to one side of my driveway. Our property was shaped like a capital ‘P’, the driveway being in ‘the leg’ of the ‘P’. Her house was on 1 1/2 acres that had been part of our property sometime in the past.
She was in tears. One of the 20 or so Chihuahuas (not an exaggeration) they owned, was dead, its head had been crushed.
As we got to the ‘work area’ I could see that it was the annoying tiny one that could and did climb her fence. It was always yapping at, and ‘chasing me’, or so it thought, whenever I walked by their yard. It obviously was doing that to the asphalt crew, and someone smacked it with a shovel, killing it.
Even though I wasn’t a fan of the dog, I was not pleased.

Bob and I then inspected the sad excuse for an asphalt job. They had scraped the new asphalt so thin, that there were areas that the old asphalt was completely uncovered.
Further, they did a half assed job with the primary issue I had, the ‘pot hole’ near the road entrance.
I would not be paying for this.

Bob and I walked back to the house and were hanging out talking in my front yard, when ‘the boss’ of the crew I’d originally spoken with, arrived in a pick-up truck, driven by another man. In the bed of the truck was a jet-ski.
They pulled up in front of my attached double garage.
The ‘boss’ exited the passenger side of the truck and approached us.
“Hey, would you like to buy a ‘Jetski’?” He asked
“Ah… No…” I answered flatly
I assumed, it was most likely, ‘hotter than a two dollar pistol’.

“Well, I’m here to collect our fee.”
He said with a smile. I then erased it.
“Nope, I’m not going to be giving you any money today.”
He looked surprised.
“Why not?!?”
“Because I’m not going to pay for that poor excuse for an asphalt job. My driveway looks worse now, than before your supposed ‘crew’ fucked it up.”
As you can imagine, he was even less happy.
“Well let’s walk down and look at it.” He quipped
“What about him?” I asked pointing to the man in the truck.
“Ah, he’s just going to wait here.”
I then turned to Bob.
“Hey Bob, would you mind going to the Dog Run and letting the Rottweilers out. You are one of the few people they won’t bite.”
“No problem buddy!” He responded.
I had two Rotties at the time, but they were still basically puppies and wouldn’t hurt anyone.
These two dumbasses didn’t know that. They wanted me out of the way, so the guy in the truck could case my house, and possibly steal something.
As I and ‘The boss’, began to walk down the driveway, to inspect their work, lo and behold, the guy in the truck with the jet-ski, turned it around and followed us.
Imagine that…

We got down to the area in question and I pointed out the crap job he expected compensation for.
“Tell you what” he began
“You pay me for this, and we’ll comeback tomorrow and fix it.”
“Yyyeahhh, that’s not going to happen. How about you come back tomorrow, put the 1/4” on like you promised, rolled like it’s supposed to be, and I’ll pay you the $600, and if it’s done correctly, I’ll throw in another $100.”

The gentleman driving the truck walked over in the mean time and stood near where we were ‘haggling’.
“How about this?” The ‘boss’ said
“You give us $400.00 now, and $400.00 tomorrow when we come back?”
“Put the crack pipe down, and step away. I’ll give you $600.00 when you complete the job per our original agreement.”

Can’t help it, I’m a smart ass. That really pissed him off. The ‘boss’ might have had an inch on me in height, the ‘driver’ was about an inch shorter. I had at least 50 lbs of muscle on each of them. I’m not a small man. Plus, under my shirt, unbeknownst to either of them, over my right rear pocket, was a 1911A1 .45 ACP pistol, holstered.
They both got within my personal space, in order to intimidate me.
I immediately shifted my right foot back so that I was standing at a 45 degree angle to these gents, my hands resting at my belt buckle. It is my trained LEO defensive position. It takes my firearm out of their range, and gives me room to draw and fire a pistol, from close range.
The ‘boss’ then said
“I think you should give us our money now.”
I laughed out loud, a guffaw if you will.
“That shit has the aerodynamics of a cinder block, it ain’t going to fly. If you believe I can be intimidated, you’ve sadly mistaken the situation.”

About this time, my buddy Bob arrived with the two Rotties on leashes.
They saw the aggressive posture of the two gentleman and lost their damn minds. Bob was doing all he could to hold on.

That completely changed their attitudes.
“Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow then.” The ‘boss’ responded.
They both got into the truck and left.
Never to be seen again.

Several days later, the local newspaper had an article about ‘Gypsie pavers’ ripping off people, doing substandard work, and stealing from the houses where they were working.

They picked the wrong house.