Neighbors

So yesterday I was walking the last part of my 2.2 miles around the 'hood, and I was literally cut off by a neighbor who wanted to talk.  I avoid this woman, as she is a world class bore and braggart, but she pulled in front of me like a cop arresting someone, and next thing I know I was an audience to all her private tour trips around the world, and upcoming weddings for her kids that were going to be the finest of all time.  It was like being with a female Trump.

Thankfully D2 called, and I had my excuse to escape.  But my dealings with the annoying one were not to end.  She complained to the HOA that, and this is for real, that fellow neighbors were ADDING trash to her trash pile!  She even knew the time it happened -- like a good witness would be able to report when a murder happened.

She said she had already called to report the "illegal dumping," but this "appalling behavior" must stop.  As the neighborhood wise ass, I was compelled to answer to Gloria, our president, and my response was to quote the English nursery rhyme "Fish and Chips with Vinegar," since there is a line about not putting your dust in my full dust bin...

What have we overfed, overprivileged wrought?  I know the answer, of course -- people with too much free time and entitlement have no shame about complaining about trash piles, which get picked up, for free, twice a year.

Wifey avoids this woman, too -- she once DEMANDED that a security sign that was placed telling would be bad guys be removed, as the woman had guests coming soon and didn't want them greeted by the signs.  Wifey thinks she is mentally ill. She may be right.

We live on an acre property. I can avoid neighbors easily. I like it that way. Wifey and I talk about maybe moving into a condo.  I think I'm getting too crochety for that to work.  I probably need my space.

Meanwhile, D1 and Dr. Kenny and I attended a lovely charity event in the Design District last night -- an art auction that raised money for a local adoption agency.  We had a terrific time -- D1's man Joey begged off, as did Wifey. 

There were a bunch of young judges there, and one asked me why I never considered becoming a member of the Bench. I responded right away -- I've become too politically incorrect for that job. You really can't say to a party "You may just be the stupidest litigant in the history of Miami Dade."  If I had to keep those thoughts inside, I might burst.  Better to stay off the Bench.

As for my 'hood, it's clear I have to start jogging more. Folks in cars tend to leave joggers alone. That will be my new strategy.