Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Trial Run
We’ll see how this goes.
So there I was, innocently sipping on a Diet Coke when my neighbor walked by. I, stupidly, asked him if he had gotten his air conditioner fixed yet. See, last week, this lonely, miserable, complaining fuck had a guest over, a girl guest, (not like that...although I’m sure he wishes), and I thought, “Good for him. Maybe it will put him in a better mood.” He always walks around, pissed off, mumbling about some thing or other that has pissed him off lately. And let me tell you, the list appears to be endless. But, he now had a guest and he seemed excited that she was there so I was hoping for good things.
Sigh. Why do I even care about other people? Why? I never win.
At some point during her visit, his air conditioner broke. I felt bad for her in that she stayed in his house while he was at work and I’m sure it was uncomfortable even with a fan. I felt bad for him because here he finally has a guest and this shit happens. (And that was my first mistake, feeling bad.)
I’m not exactly sure what this person spends his money on but he never has any money. He had asked me about the air conditioner repairman I used recently, (my a/c went to shit but thankfully was under warranty so I got a new one..hurray!), because the guy I used was out the next day, tried to fix it, realized it needed replacement and was back out with the new unit the next day. No kidding. The other neighbors rely on some other old dude who may or may not bother to return your phone calls and may or may not make time for you to look at your a/c unit sometime in the next couple of weeks. Screw that. I live for my a/c and I’m not waiting on some old dude to decide he wants my business or not. So despite the howling protests, (and why on earth do these people CARE who I use, my GOD, I do not get that), I looked up a/c repair people on the internet and called my guy. (And this was after I placed three phone calls to old dude who never once acknowledged I existed.)
ANYway, he called my guy but because his a/c unit is not under warranty, it was going to cost him $90 to have the guy come out and whatever the charge to fix it. Neighbor guy does not have the money. (Really?) So he decided instead to contact “John”...He of the Shitty Underpants. Yep, my other next door neighbor. “John” or He of the Shitty Underpants, has been known to fix an air conditioner or two in his life time. Personally I would never let He of the Shitty Underpants touch anything of mine because he’s always tanked and on pills and when it comes time to pay his rent at the beginning of the month, he calls the ambulance instead and gets taken away for yet another “heart attack”. He’s working the sympathy route, see. He has plenty of money to drink and smoke and pop pills all month long but cannot come up with money to pay his rent.
So He of the Shitty Underpants went over to look at the other neighbor’s a/c unit. Let’s call other neighbor...Cry. Yes, that perfectly suits him. Cry needed a new compressor or some shit.
Ok, fast forward a few days to the beginning of this story. I, stupidly, asked if he got his a/c fixed. He told me he had, he said it was the compressor, He of the Shitty Underpants had fixed it and then, with no warning whatsoever, he started yelling, “And I’m cutting down that fucking bamboo tree!”
What the hell?
I said, “What the hell?”
He replied, angrily, “I’m cutting that fucking tree down on my next day off because it’s destroying my house.”
Sigh. Ok, my yard is small and there is a bamboo tree in my yard between my house and Cry’s house. Most of the stalks, (I guess they’re called), actually lean towards MY house and I’m constantly having to go to the roof and clean off the leaves as well as in my yard. The tree can reach over to Cry’s house but I typically do a good job of keeping it trimmed down.
So I stated, “No, you’re not. I can trim it up if it’s touching anything but you’re not cutting it down.”
I’ll spare you most of the drama that occurred in the following 5 minutes because it entailed him screaming and cursing and yelling that he fucking was cutting it down, fuck me if I didn’t like it, he didn’t care, it was destroying his house, everyone here only cares about themselves and now he’s going to care only about himself and fuck everyone and on and on. Periodically I would say, “Again, no, you’re not, if you would show me where this destruction is happening, I’ll trim the tree back”.
Finally I got pissed. I actually had to consult the fucking land owner. That pissed me off even more. I explained the situation. The land owner started laughing saying Cry could never operate a chain saw, don’t worry. I told him that Cry was determined to cut it down and I was furious. Land Owner said to tell Cry that it would be trimmed, Cry would not be cutting it down.
I informed Cry of this. Cry then proceeded to scream and curse again about how he can’t believe I went to Land Owner, curse, curse, curse, curse, curse, scream, froth at the mouth, blow a blood vessel, etc.
So Cry went back and screamed and wet his pants in front of Land Owner. Land Owner comes back to me and says, “Well, you know, if it’s destroying his house....” I said, “It is NOT destroying his house. I can trim it back but it does not need to come down.” So Land Owner said to allow me to trim it back. If that didn’t work then we would cut it down.
What the fuck does the asshole expect me to do? You can’t fucking speak to me in a civil fucking tone, you can’t fucking listen to reason, you can’t fucking talk calmly and come to a compromise, you just do it your way and fuck the world? No, asshole fucker, it doesn’t work that way. He left me no alternative BUT to go this route and that also pissed me off because I can’t stand having to fucking do shit like this over PETTY! ASS! CRAP! It makes EVERYONE look fucking stupid.
I looked at that tree from every possible angle and could not, for the life of me, figure out what the hell Cry was talking about. NOTHING touches his fucking house. He claimed it was when the wind was blowing. >smack forehead< Are any of you in any way familiar with bamboo trees? Those stalks are not exactly limber. They don’t bend and flex all that much in the wind. I stood at the base of the tree and pushed and pulled on the stalks trying to get one of them to touch Cry’s house and NONE OF THEM moved more than 1/4 inch. In other words, no they fucking were NOT touching his fucking piece of shit house.
So, yesterday, I hear He of the Shitty Underpants out in his yard with a chain saw. Oh hell no mother fucker. I bolted out the door. Come to find out he was just chopping back branches from some trees that are near our properties “in case of a hurricane”. Fair enough.
We discussed the destructible bamboo tree, the tree of EVIL!, and HotSU told me that he had cut the limbs back already and Cry helped him carry the limbs to the truck. Oh, ho ho! Did we forget to fucking include that bit of information, you asshole, Cry?
This would be why I could not figure out what the hell Cry was crying about. HotSU showed me where one of the stalks/limbs had been rubbing on a small part of Cry’s house. Ok, so there was a bit of damage. Not a lot, nothing that can’t be easily (and I mean, EASILY), fixed. Ok, though. But the offending stalk/limb had been trimmed back so there was no problem anymore and no need for the fucking drama queen to insist on taking a chain saw to the whole thing. Regardless, I had HotSU cut the stalks/limbs (the two he started), lower so that Cry had nothing at all to piss and moan about. He wanted to chop the entire thing down over a limb. One fucking limb.
Instead of saying, “Hey, Serenity, you need to keep the tree trimmed because, as you can see here, one of the stalks/limbs grew towards my house and has made that scrape mark you see there. Please don’t let that happen again.”
Ok! I would have been happy to!
But I didn’t get that fucking kind of respect, now did I?
So, the deal with the Land Owner was that I would trim the tree back from Cry’s house, we would see how that went and if it worked, case closed. If it appeared that the tree would continue to DESTROY Cry’s house, the whole thing would be chopped down.
I cannot fucking wait to talk to Land Owner. I’m also taking photographs so that Cry cannot make other claims later on. He is that kind of person. And in the end, with Land Owner and Cry both in attendance, I’m going to mention that perhaps I might lend a little more credence to Cry’s claims about caring about his property if he got his fat fucking ass out and washed off the blanket of dark green mold that circles the top part of his house and cleaned the garbage up out of his yard.
Fucking piece of shit.
