Every Village Has Its Assholes

 So we've lived here 21 years, and in all that time, so have our strange neighbors, who I'll call Risa and Ray, since that's very close to their real names, but alliterative. I like alliterative.

Risa is, I'm pretty sure, bipolar. Several years ago, she cornered our friend Marc, visiting from Atlanta, and talked at him for a solid 30 minutes. She does that -- if she gets an audience, she goes on and on about her life and kids, and never once asks you about yours -- as if she lives this Princess Diana-like life that anyone truly cares about.

Ray is a commercial lawyer, apparently fairly successful, and their three kids do well, too.

Early during the plague, Risa cornered me one afternoon, and out of sheer boredom, I let her go on and on about how her kids were SO successful -- even though it sounded like they had rather boring, expected of rich white family jobs -- like public lawyers and finance. I laughed myself the entire time, as I allowed my internal clock to run just waiting for Risa to come up for air and ask a single question about my family. It never happened.

She's also a sneak -- calling the Village on neighbors who commit awful crimes, like failing to have trash piles collected on time. And Wifey has a favorite story from years back -- involving some signs the HOA posted.

We have off duty FHP troopers patrolling, even though there hasn't been a serious crime here in well, probably since the late 80s. The Board bought some nice signs, wooden, and posted them at our entrances -- stating that our 'hood was patrolled. Well -- Risa called Wifey in a major fit -- thinking Wifey was solely responsible for the signs, and stating, without irony, that she had family "Coming to visit from Boca the following day, the signs were ugly, and she expected them to be removed!"

Wifey, being an adult, simply ignored her call, but now "I have people coming from Boca!" has become family lore -- a phrase we use when we want to express complete Karen-like behavior. Actually, Risa was a Karen before the term became ubiquitous. We're trend setters here.

Well -- the latest kerfuffle involves dogs. In fairness, I must admit that D2 is a scofflaw -- she walks her large puppy without a leash. The dog is sweet and never would hurt anyone, but leash IS the law. Risa and Ray have a Labrador they apparently show. The damned thing is nasty -- growling and jumping all the time -- giving creedence to the saw that dogs are like their owners.

I know that Risa and Ray have complained about Betsy -- and they have every right to. D2 says screw 'em -- she's moving out sooner or later, and has her Dad's independent streak. She DOES make sure Betsy doesn't poop on the jerks' lawn, though. They have cameras which I'm sure bored housewife Risa monitors all day, and have literally bounded out of the house when a dog attempts to poop their lawn. A few weeks ago, D2 watched as she scolded a few young boys with their sweet dog -- claiming that their dog gave the nasty show Retriever worms. Whatever.

Last night, D2 and I were walking Betsy and the strange rescue, Vienna, who I DO leash. From down the street came a booming voice -- from Ray, who sounds like a self important asshole: "Leash your dog!" D2 had a lanyard that holds a shock collar transmitter, and she fashioned a leash for Betsy, and we kept walking, to keep the peace.

But as we passed, the nasty, leashed, Retreiver lunged at the strange rescue dog -- nearly pulling Ray over. I was going to keep quiet, but I couldn't, and said "Ok -- my daughter will keep Betsy leashed -- how about you learn to train YOUR dog?!!"

They were flummoxed. Entitled assholes aren't used to anyone questioning their moral authority. We kept walking and I honestly didn't hear their reply except for a "thank you!"

D2 wished I had kept silent -- why did I engage with psycho neighbors? I explained that they were bullies -- not of the schoolyard types -- but of the rich white type, and you have to take bullies to task.

I plan to stand down. Next time I see either Ray or Risa, I plan to turn around and walk the other way. The only problem is, Betsy's best friend Jagger, a Lab/Golden mix who is as sweet and playful as the assholes' dog is nasty, lives 2 houses away. In fact, last week Jagger darted to the show dog to try to play -- Risa acted as if he was a snarling Pit bull. And she went inside, yelling at Jagger's dog Mom Daria. Jagger, to make a point, pooped in front of their door. I love Jagger.

So -- each Village has its assholes, and these are ours. Hopefully they don't have Betsy arrested. She's big but not tough -- she won't do well in gen pop at the pound.