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Sometimes It Just Comes Back Around

November 16, 2007
Ah. I am catching up on my blog reading after locking down the hatches and securing the doors. First, because earlier two creepy older teenage boys, one white, the other black dressed some where between a nerd, a prep, and skater knocked on my door leaving me spooked. The knock was of the little mousy type so I assumed it was the neighbor to tell me the dog got out or to inform me of some other trivial but cannot wait another second piece of information. Both boys stood there on the second step so were not in my personal space but there was something menacing and suspicious in their manner. I asked what they wanted and the first one said they were with [unintelligible mumble] and wanted to introduce themselves. When I asked with what organization, the other said his name and announced again the [unintelligible mumble] reason they were standing there. The child was behind me in the living room doing cartwheels. When I assessed the safety latch, I realised that I had opened the door without it on. It seemed that they noticed me realising my mistake. I’m not sure who they were with or why they wanted to introduce themselves to all the neighbors but I slammed the door in their faces and immediately secured all the locks. I hate that I did it and I’m sure if they were not up to no good, they will conclude with all the stereotypical reasons why an older woman may have slammed the door in their face. I mean they were just standing there with suspicious grins pronouncing nothing clear but their names, and their names were suspect, like Biff, Cleo, and Skip or maybe it was Chad. It was as if a joke was being played and everyone was in on it but me. When I told Mr. Glendower that I was spooked, he asked if they looked like Mormons. No, they did not. I would know how to handle Mormons, besides Mormons are always wearing white short sleeve dress shirts and black knit pants.

Second, because our new lunatic neighbor is outside screaming at the top of his lungs at someone over the telephone about money owed to him and checks he has been writing all around town. How is someone like that able to keep someone else on the telephone that long? If I were the person on the other end, I would have hung up thirty minutes ago. I gathered the topic after I made the house stand still so I could hear what was going on. At first I thought those two teenagers went to another house and something erupted. The man is not just screaming but is raging, the scary kind of rage that makes others nervous, feel threatened like dealing with the raging maniac who snaps and does not calm down until after he has choked someone to death.

Sometimes it just comes back around. That raging lunatic rents the front unit of the duplex next-door, meaning the owner, Hal, lives in the back unit. We live in the back unit of our duplex and our landlord’s daughter occupies the front. When we first moved here, Rebecca, the daughter (the mother/owner lives in another state) and Hal got together and complained about our barking dog. While they were standing there on my front step complaining about the dog, she openly bragged how Hal had evicted his previous tenants because she had a problem with them. In other words, she would be more than happy to return the favor. I sensed it when I saw Hal standing their smirking as if we were in a corner and had no option but to do what they demanded. As if I was going to say, “Yes boss man, we will get right on shutting that dog up even if we have to shoot him between the eyes, sorry about that boss, it won’t happen again I promise boss!”

Fortunately, for Mr. Glendower’s calm demeanor, he called her mother and Rebecca has not bothered us since. Especially since he indirectly revealed that Rebecca is at home all day instead of wheeling and dealing at her big time real estate job (which is not the easy gravy it was just last year. HA Hee HA!) and because she does not have the eviction influence she fancies herself possessing. Many years ago, I would not have dared to laugh at the misfortunes of others because I always felt that their misfortunes were only one degree away from becoming my misfortune in some other form. Nevertheless, after years and years of people coming at me, attacking me when I did nothing but exist or express myself, I am no longer so quick to extend unchecked compassion. I’m not claiming or reserving the right to mock anyone’s misfortunes but if it is someone who abused me simply because they could, then, I no longer own the guilt that comes with meager expressions of schadenfreude

For a second last week I thought Hal was softening or perhaps I should say humbling after his unit was on the market for almost two months without success. I was almost feeling sorry for him because it did appear as if he was expending a lot of effort in readying the place for a tenant. Once or twice he looked as if he wanted to say hello. Even though it has been proven that it is other dogs, many other dogs that are barking up the place we have not been apologised to by Hal or Rebecca. So now, Hal has himself a rageaholic to deal with and that rageaholic lives directly next to Rebecca. This should be interesting.

  1. Liz permalink
    November 17, 2007 5:54 am

    I say good for you that you trusted your instincts and shut the door like you did. You never know about teens these days, especially not after Dunbar Village.

  2. Kitty Glendower permalink
    November 17, 2007 6:03 am

    I know, it was exactly Dunbar that I was thinking about. Those two little bastards still have me worried.

  3. momo permalink
    November 17, 2007 3:12 pm

    From bitter experience, I know that you have to absolutely trust your instincts when you open the door and something feels off. If they did not immediately identify themselves clearly and politely, then they were up to no good.

  4. Kitty Glendower permalink
    November 20, 2007 2:50 am

    I’m sorry Momo that experience does not sound too good.

    I’m learning more and more to trust my instincts.

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