Don't You Be My Neighbor
Here is what I do know: I know how to be a halfway decent neighbor. I'm a better neighbor than I used to be, thanks in large part to Mr. J. He is constantly watching out for ways we might be "not very neighborly" because being "not very neighborly" is actually the Eighth Deadly Sin.
You know what's maddening, though? What's maddening is when you're doing your damnedest to be neighborly and well . . . no one else seems to give a tiny rat's ass (to blatantly steal a phrase from Friends).
We moved into this rental back in September. The good(?) news is that we're moving out in about 5 weeks. Since I won't have to deal with these clowns for very much longer, I can now acknowledge the rage I've been feeling this whole time. Mr. J. does not have this rage. He has a very Jesus/Oprah/Maya Angelou attitude about the whole thing, like "they know not what they do" or, "If they knew better, they'd do better." Did I ever mention that I once bought a few decks of these cards? I gave them away, mostly as gag gifts and now I'm tempted to buy a big slew and distribute them in the middle of the night in a fabulously spineless, passive-aggressive attempt to indicate my unhappiness.
Let's start with the biggest offender, the one with the bread. I shall call him "Rudely McThoughtlessen." Our very first night here, he showed us a hint of his not very neighborly ways when he started playing jazz music, very loudly, at oh, about midnight. Now I like jazz - especially jazz with a very heavy bass line - just as much as the next gal. But not when I'm trying to get my beauty rest and definitely not when I share a wall with your speakers. Of course, he is the PRESIDENT of the condo association so what the hell were we to do except bitch to each other? Did I also mentioned, he's like, 50? And retired? And married? And has the requisite motorcycle in his garage?
Then in early October, he put a pumpkin in front of his door. We all kind of share the front wall of our units (hard to explain) so I guess he put a pumpkin out for all of us to enjoy. And enjoy we did. All through November and December and just when I thought Minnie was going to choke herself trying to get away from me in order to eat the delicious rotting pumpkin, it went away. Or so I thought. He just threw it in the backyard, which we do all share. I guess he's an animal person and I imagine deer can eat pumpkin. But even deer probably don't love rotting pumpkin. Again - just a guess. Throughout the winter, I would look out my patio door and see white bread thrown up on the hill/backyard we all share. At least when it was cold, I could try to justify it - he's worried about the deer. He doesn't want them to starve. Except this morning when I came downstairs I looked outside and lo and behold, what looked like an ENTIRE loaf of white bread (whole slices!) thrown all over the hill. A few piece were dangling gently from some tree branches. Did I mention it was EIGHTY degrees today? Dude! Um, it's also ANT season. I know they're outside already, but do we really want to encourage them?
On the other side, we have two young men. Mr. J. and I can only assume that someone has purchased the condo for them - or maybe they're subletters, like us - who knows? We call them the "Let's spend Saturday afternoon throwing furniture down the stairs" guys because it seems that's what they like to do in their spare time. Another family lived there (before they got evicted!) and were so quiet, you'd hardly even know they were there. (Which is maybe why they got evicted?) And they had a big dog! And a small child! Two almost guaranteed to be noisy residents and not a peep. The other thing these two fellows do is put their trash outside either not in bags or mostly not in bags. It seems like they have a contest the night before trash day and see how many pieces of junk they can throw into a small garbage bag. I think they do the throwing from several feet away. They also remind me of my students because they can't seem to find a little twisty-tie thing and the bags are always too overflowing to just tie in a knot. If the sanitation engineers come kill them in the middle of the night, I can't say I would blame them.
Ending abruptly because I'm not sure I'm making much sense and this hour and suddenly find myself unaware of how to spell basic words. Stay tuned . . .