So I Was Raking the Lawn...

Happy-go-lucky suburbia: we don't have to worry about too much in the neighborhood. No drive-bys, no street gangs, and only the occasional dog poo on the shoe. But there is one hazard that can befall any unsuspecting suburbian: the annoying, creepy neighbor. As many of you know, I have the unparalleled pleasure of living near, not one, but two creepy neighbors. Much like herpes, they don't come out much, and only bother you when you're trying to have fun. The only time they become visible is when you unwarily encroach on their turf... and then you reap their wrath.
In one corner, you'll find Old Man Weirdo. He sucks. He's a hermit, who's lived in that very same house his entire life. He never moved out, lived with his parents until he outlived them both (or so he'd have us believe). Some fun facts: He's convinced his mother's ghost haunts the house, so he sleeps in the garage. He uses grocery bags for socks. He mows the lawn in the middle of the night. And he absolutely hates it when you park in front of his house. Bear in mind, he doesn't own a car, but anyone parking in the street in front of his house absolutely riles him. You'll most likely earn yourself a hastily-scrawled note taped to your windshield, "NO PARKING ALLOWED!" If you're really lucky, and you're trying to bring your girlfriend home at 1AM, he might try to rush out of his house and confront you. And the best way to react is pretend you don't see him hobbling towards you, waving his arms, and just drive away and sob silently while your girlfriend screams and screams and screams... (not, that that has ever happened to me.)

This brings us to our second creepy neighbor. Also a shut-in, also lives in his parents' house, you might think he's Old Man Weirdo's trainee. Which might be the case. Maybe some day, when I'm bringing my family back to Bellerose for Thanksgiving, he'll be the new Old Man Weirdo. But as far as I know, the two goofballs remain entirely autonomous, and suck the happiness of our little corner of the neighborhood, completely independently. But I'll dub this jerk, The Junkie Kid. He's real skinny, has a child molester mustache, seems to hold no job, and is in his mid-40's... probably. I don't know for sure if he does drugs... but it'd be a good excuse for his station in life. I did happen to glimpse him staggering out of a taxi cab one night, most likely coming back from a local, white trash bar. For some reason, he also has beef with whoever parks in front of his house. You'll get the note treatment, or he'll even venture outdoors during the daylight and confront you with some transparent reason ("Uhh, you see, I'm expecting company...") The fact remains that his house is on a corner, and thus has plenty of parking space for his imminently arriving imaginary friends.

Why did I write about these dipshits? Because I got to talk to the Junkie Kid today. Since my Dad came out of surgery last week, he's been under strict orders not to exert himself (and boy, is he milking that one! The guy got about 8 years of mileage over his heart attack back in '94) Anyway, he needed some help with the leaves, so I happily volunteered. Amongst our garage arsenal is a combination leaf blower/leaf chopper with an extension cord. So after sequestering all the leaves in a longish pile in front of our house, I switched attachments and started sucking them up. This can be a lengthy job because a) wet leaves can get stuck in the pipe and need to be cleared out, and b) the bag attachment can only hold so much leaf crumbs, thus necessitating multiple trips to behind the garage where we keep our combination compost pile/rodent hotel. Between trips 3 and 4 (I had to empty the bag 7 times in total) I noticed a landscaping contracter truck roll up to Junkie Kid's house. Three leafblowers came out and made short work of his leaves. They then sucked up the leaves with an industrial sucker/chopper and were gone in about 30 minutes. My first thought was that it was pretty shitty of Junkie Kid to hire a contractor when his next-door neighbor actually did part-time landscaping himself. (On a complete side note, that guy's son was one of my best friends in grade school and junior high... incidentally, he's now a tattoo artist and licensed skin piercer, just for your information) Anyway, the second thing I thought was... the jackass is watching me walk back and forth with my lame little sucker, and is probably going to come over and give me some "neighborly advice," about landscape management. I visualized "accidentally" unpopping the leaf crumb bag when he came up behind me, shooting twigs, dust, and leaves in his face. But then I thought that'd be no good, because he'd probably sue me or something.

Well, sure enough, he did come by, and he did give me neighborly advice. I had to shake his hand, too. Then came the awkward, "idle chat" phase, where he asked about me and what I did. In fact, he seemed to have no clue that I actually lived at home. He thought I was home for Thanksgiving. I also think he might have thought I was my brother. (My brother who actually almost got into a fight with him a couple years back over, what else?, parking in front of his house.) But for whatever reason, he had absolutely no clue who I was. I was civil, but I kept my answers short and didn't add to the conversation. I sort of gave him my, "I have no interest in interacting with you in any way, but I'll retain my dignity" expression. Eventually he shambled off, back to his parents' house. Probably had some game shows to watch, or Victoria Secrets catalogues to ogle.

I know I was going to stay mum until after the exam... but I couldn't resist!

Feedback Question of the Day:
"Ever have some truly unpleasant person that you had to tolerate?"