A beautiful day for a neighbor……
I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you,
I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.”
Yep, in case you were wondering, those ARE some of the lyrics from Mr. Rogers theme song. I haven’t completely lost my mind….not yet, anyway. I’m actually going somewhere with this.....if only in my own little world. Humor me.
Ohhhh to live in a city or even a town! But am I that lucky? Nope. I live waaaaay out in the county. You know, the places you see on the news where only the finest meth labs are created? The place where the woman with three teeth in her head and the old man wearing overalls with no shirt underneath make the news for describing what the tornado sounded like? That’s where I reside. Alone….while the husband jets around the country for his job.
While I feel my storytelling efforts are feeble at best, I am going to attempt to give you a glimpse into my neighborhood. So imagine me taking off my scrub jacket and putting on a nice cardigan…just like Mr. Rogers….while I ready myself to tell a story (and unfortunately this isn't the land of make believe). Oh, and in all actuality, I am taking off my scrub jacket and my t-shirt…oh, and what the heck, also my bra…and putting on my pj’s. Screw a cardigan!
I’m going to break this down into numbered items…..mainly so as not to confuse myself.
Enemy #1 - The Volunteer Fire Department. There is a big field that separates my house from a volunteer fire department. Now let me be real clear here, I dislike them. Wait, actually....I hate them. In all fairness, they may be good people to some degree…but as a group they are like genital warts…no cure, never going away, sometimes more irritating than others (and no, I do not have genital warts). My feud with the volunteer fire department has lasted for about 15 years and has gotten rather ugly at times….much to the embarrassment of my husband. Here are just a few examples......
Feud #1 - Their building used to be a nice shade of beige. I am all about
color coordination….and it blended. But one day I came home from work
to find that they had painted the whole blasted building fire engine
red. The view from my lovely dining room window? A gigantic red
building. This did not make me happy. Did they care? Not one bit.
And many, many, many years later….I’m still pissed.
Feud #2 - Early one Sunday morning, I awoke to the sound of motorcycles. I
thought to myself “those sound like they are right outside my window”.
Well guess what? They were. Apparently the Neanderthals at the fire
department, in an effort to raise money for the life-saving abilities
they do not possess, had decided to hold some kind-of motorcycle/dirt
bike/ATV race. And they let people park in my yard. Even right up
against my house. And they charged money for the parking….IN MY YARD.
And let me also add that it was rainy and wet that day….and my yard
was rutted up and destroyed by these goons. Oh, and I also found
several pairs of underwear in my yard over the next few days. And a
condom. It has been at least 12 years….but I still wish a slow
painful death upon every single one of them for that whole episode.
Feud #3 - Everyone knows I like to take in strays….I’ll pretty much pick up
any dog or cat I see on the side of the road that I can catch. I had taken in a dog
that someone dropped. He was blind. Completely blind. But he could
still hear and he was a sweet older dog and I decided he still had
several good years left so I kept him. I had to run an errand one
afternoon so I tied him in the yard for his own safety. When I
returned 15 minutes later, he was gone. Gone gone gone. Now, it just
so happens that the fire department was having their annual
fundraising barbeque the next day and they had been cooking steadily
for 24 hours. My blind dog did not let himself off the chain and
wander off. Those morons cooked my dog. I know they did. They never
liked him. Of course they denied it, but I know better. So take my
advice…..if you buy barbeque from a fire department, it may very well
be someone’s pet.
Feud #4 - After a Wal-Mart run one evening after work, I came home and
started unloading my purchases. I'm minding my own business when I hear the fire department
start their trucks and race off down the road. I’m sure I called them
“idiots” or something more derogatory….but I kept going on about my
business. Then I notice out the window that they are two houses down the
road from me…and I see them running around in the yard…..hmmmm,
strange. Then I watch as they get back in their truck and drive to
the house directly beside me and start their whole idiot parade all
over again. I’m still thinking this is strange and calling them
names. About the time I decide to pay them no more attention, they
come busting through my back door. Yes, literally. I am standing in
my dining room and suddenly the “lifesavers” I hate are standing in MY
house. They tell me my house is on fire. I tell them that clearly my
house is not on fire and they are in fact dumber than I had ever
imagined them to be. Without my permission, they go upstairs...and in
my basement...and in every room on the main floor of my house looking
for fire. When the fire chief comes up my basement stairs to tell me there
is no fire and that I am now safe, I say “Oh thank God sir, whatever would
I do without ya’ll fine gentlemen to help a poor girl out….I was almost consumed
by these flames”…..in my best southern, smartass voice, of course. Then they have a little
meeting to discuss that my fire extinguisher is “dated”… while standing in my dining
room….where every bra I own is hanging on the backs of chairs to
dry….and I have the pads and tampons I just bought at Wal-Mart still sitting on
the dining room table waiting to be put away. Hooray. And apparently my telling Chief
WannabeAFireman that my husband is in fact a safety/environmental
expert and I know my fire extinguisher is good AND pointing out that it was a good
thing my house wasn’t actually on fire since they couldn’t find my address when I
live RIGHT NEXT DOOR did not help to diffuse the situation.
Feud #5 - Everyone remembers the ice storm. My yard and home looked like a war zone.
Trees had fallen everywhere...even on the house. And four days later, the getalong gang
stops by to ask if we need any water or medical treatment. My response to this was
one word. "Seriously?" In my overwhelmingly large community of 15 people,
I'm so glad you took the time to make sure I wasn't dehydrated and in need
of having my leg amputated so I could be pulled out from under a tree. They then
proceeded to give us the bill for our annual fire dues....you know, since they were there
they thought they'd save a stamp. Fire dues? My house is destroyed and you want
fire dues. I got your fire dues!
Enemey #2 - K & E. Ahhhh K and E. Druggies and dumbasses extraordinaire. Let’s just say I watched a lot of drug deals go down from my front porch. And I bought a lot of groceries and made sure they were
fed….because God forbid they go without their drugs of choice. On a brighter note, they could fix anything around my house that I managed to tear up.
Enemy #3 - M. Meth labs at their finest. And only referring to himself in the third person, as in “M sure could use the company of a woman” and “M is going to cook supper for you tonight and you will eat it”. On and on and on. Then M tried to break into my house to feed me the dinner he made for me. And subsequently stole my husbands bicycle and our lawnmower….all in one evening. Precious memories.
Enemy #4 - T. Have you ever met someone so dumb that you truly believed there could be no one dumber on the planet? Well let me assure you, T is dumber. That’s what a diet of beer and pot will do for you. Well…beer, pot, and a metal plate in the head from some previous trauma. T asks for money at least once a week…..for beer, or course. I believe T is basically physically harmless…..except for the one time he was both drunk and high and was suddenly moved by God himself to take my hand in his and pray immediately….while he held a lit cigarette. I suffered a burn from T’s euphoric, pot-induced religious experience. For the last few weeks, I had noticed things around my neighborhood to be unusually quiet. Then one afternoon last week, I received a phone call from Cumberland Hall. Naturally I answered because why would Cumberland Hall be calling me? I was afraid something had happened to a loved one. Wrong. It was T. Calling to tell me he was staying at CH for rehab. He told me he would be out within a week. My thought......oh thank God above for calling and telling me, T.....I have missed you so. Insert eye roll. Anyway, I got home from work two days ago and who walks up my driveway smoking a joint the size of my forearm? Yep, T. He wanted to know if “Jake” could come over for a visit because he had missed him. Ok, let me explain. Jake is in fact my dog Hank. But apparently T has killed off so many of his brain cells that he can’t comprehend the name Hank….therefore, Hank is Jake to him. I told T that I would be letting “Jake” out to potty but that he was absolutely not supposed to cross the street and visit with him. Now let me explain something here. Hank or “Jake” has developed quite a bond with T. And I am pretty sure it is because of the ganja. And beer. Yes, T gives my dog beer and lets him get some sort-of contact high. So Hank comes home reeking of pot. Which I think explains why he raids the cupboards and snacks on my food all day.....it's a bad case of the munchies. Two nights ago, even though I forbid Hank from going to visit T, he went anyway.....and I carted him to daycare yesterday morning smelling slightly of weed. And seeing as how I don't pick Hank up from daycare until tomorrow afternoon and he will be a few days without his pot and beer, he may be going through DT's as I type this.
A few years ago while remodeling, we discovered an old well under our back porch. I was afraid of that well for a long time....still am. I could always imagine that creepy, spider-like women from the movie The Ring coming up out of it with her jerky movements. Can you believe that? I'm afraid of an old well when the real enemy walks around my property and talks with me!
Have you ever had a neighbor shoot into your backyard while you are out playing with your dog and yell "Don't move!!! I just shot the copperhead you were about to step on!".....and have enough accuracy and good enough eyesight that they actually did shoot a gigantic poisonous snake from a half mile away? Have you ever locked yourself out of your house and had to ask for the neighbors help only to discover that he can get into your house quicker using a coat hanger and his drivers license than you can using the key? Welcome to my neighborhood. Won't you be my neighbor?
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