Last year the Mennonite guy who has done our fields retired. We got a new farmer, this guy named Wade. He only has seven fingers. The story he told me had something to do with a PTO, and a grain elevator, but now I know the truth.
He did a fine job last year, except he only fertilized a portion of the field. He said they needed replanting, and he was gonna put down winter wheat in the fall, so I let him slide.
Fall came, and no winter wheat. I called him. He was having equiptment problems, and he was gonna redo the fields with Timothy grass in the spring.
We had no complaints with him at all, and he assured me he wasn’t playing games with me. He definitely wanted to do the fields agin, and said (without my suggestion,) that he’d be by to the pay the rent in advance in December (he paid up front without asking last year, so I had no reason to doubt his integrity.)
He didn’t come by.
I’ve been trying to call him for 2 weeks. He never got back to me.
Tonight I spoke to him, and he doesn’t think he can do the fields this year because of the economics of farming, he’s getting old, he needs to cut back, and it’s hard getting help.
I told him, that that was fine, but I wish he’d told me before it was too late to replant the fields, because now I was gonna have a tough time finding somebody else, and you already took off crops without fertilizing, so basically I’m screwed.
He said if I had trouble maybe we could work something out.
Inside my head, I get this sneaky suspicion that he’s playing games to get the rent down. If he had just asked me, I would have done it, no problem. He set the rent last year, not me. I’m not looking to make money out of the fields, I just want them taken care of.
I said, no, if you don’t want to be here, we don’t want you.
Again he said, that if I had any trouble finding somebody, to let him know and maybe we could work something out.
Maybe he’s telling the truth, but being left in a lurch pisses me off.
No, I said, I don’t think I want to do that until I decide if I want to hold you liable for the field maintenance, and the cost of not replanting that you owe me.
I don’t want any hard feelings, he said.
And I wish you’d let me know what you decided before it was too late for me to do anything about it, I said.
Well, I didn’t decide until last week, he said.
That’s not my problem, I replied, but I’ll be sure and let you know what action I decide to take against you. Thanks for getting back to me. Goodbye.
I’m sure the reason he has only 7 fingers is because the Amish mafia cut off the other 3 for being a Welcher.
Now I have to find another farmer, and I’ll probably have to fertilize out of pocket. I don’t know shit about farming, being a city boy. Bottom line is that I won’t waste my time pursuing 'ole seven fingers, but I am righteously pissed at the jerk.
