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2006-06-27 @ 6:50 p.m. |
If you want to skip another angry episode of the Garden Hacker Guy, go ahead, click off, but today the police were involved again. He called them... My crime? I was out crying on my porch, begging him not to start hacking all the lush greenery that I look at while I'm painting. Now I realize how truly threatening a crying woman in her nightgown is. I mean with the high probability of gunplay and/or a horrific physical altercation. Like when I rip the screening off my second floor porch and jump down on top of him like the bionic woman, complete with slow mo photography and sound effects as my bare feet hits his cranial lobe, crushing it like a grape. Because I know when I watch "COPS" its always those women, crying in their white linen nightgowns that always gets me the most scared. All that sobbing and crying. Its truly frightening. So what is all this really about? It's sort of no longer about some guy clipping bushes. Its about me not having any control over a situation and how frustrating that feels. I grew up not having any control over anything as a kid. I had bad things happen to me as a kid, and I was totally powerless to prevent any of them, so I figured when I grew up and had a voice as an adult, I would be able to fight for my rights and maybe even win a few rounds. But have I? No, not exactly. So lets look at the facts. And I'm not going to make myself look like Mother Theresa. I have done a few things wrong. I rented an apartment in a small, rundown complex that only had one thing going for it. It was right next to a creek and was surrounded by beautiful lush green gardens and trees. I took an apartment on the backside of the complex because it was right next to the creek and it was like a dream come true. Being able to open my front door and hear the water rushing by. It was very calming and refreshing and previously I would just stand in the doorway with Guardcat in my arms, looking out over the wooded wonderland and enjoy my view. And then in about March, the weird Creek Freak guy cleaned out the creek of garbage. That was fine. That took approximately 2 days. The only problem is, he stayed there for another 3 months. Every day. Standing out in the creek in rubber waders, raking from as early as 6:15 a.m. to sunset. All.day. Just walking back and forth. Throwing rocks around. Raking a fucking creek. Like what the hell was that about? I just ignored him. I never once said anything to him, because I thought he was weird and I already have to deal with the weird at work. And then the day I came out and all the wooded beauty was gone. Slashed sticks. It was horrific. I called the landlord twice in the same day. First call: "He's doing his civic duty" (click). Second call: "If you don't like what's out there, don't look" (click). So I called the police. They did nothing. So I no longer looked out at the beauty that was once my "back yard". I don't even open my screen door anymore...even when its hot. And then came my first 'confrontation' with him. I had the gall...THE TOTAL GALL to say, "Please don't cut the limbs off the trees. They're pretty." True fighting words, wouldn't you say? Well that launched him into an instantaneous verbal attack, telling me "Its people like you who don't lift a finger to do anything around the apartment complex, that complain about those of us who do." Well, first of all, I don't work here, dickhead. I pay rent. I don't need to work 20 hours a day out in the yard. I HAVE A JOB. I'M NOT SOME MANIC DICKHEAD and second of all, dude, you totally have no right to talk to me like that. So that day I complained to our maintenance man who just said he was "mental". And then came his half hearted attempt to apologize at the library. By then I cringed at the mere sight of him and had no desire to be his cafe latte buddy down at Starbucks, so I didn't really talk to him, except to say he was rude and nothing else. And then came the angry, lunging thing this last Wednesday. I once again said, "Please don't cut anymore off that plant" and he whirled around and started flailing his arms angrily and screaming. Can you imagine someone in your life doing that like... "Hey George, please don't touch that salt shaker, its an antique" and they touch it and then become totally unhinged if you say one word. Its like everything he does is above reproach, and if anyone says anything even remotely critical, he takes it as an attack on his character. That, my friend, is mental illness. My main mistake was getting so upset over something so seemingly minor, but then it became a battle of wills. The third element in this fiasco was the worthless landlord. I had met a new woman over across the way and she said he does nothing in terms of handling situations. She's lived here 15 years and she said, all he's interested in is getting the checks. He doesn't even check references. As long as you have a check for $565...you're in. I knew it was too easy for me to get in here. Dang!! My last call to him was exactly this: "I will tell him to stop cutting the bushes." (click) He never did that evidently because the Happy Hacker never stopped. Not even briefly. So I went out this morning and I could hear that incessant..clip...clip...clip. I hadn't even gone to the bathroom. I just walked out on my porch and he was just starting to annihilate the beautiful bushes right under my window. And once again, I politely said, "Please don't do that." He ignored me. And then I started crying. And then I started weeping profusely. And it got loud. Really loud! I love my greenery and nature. He yelled up at me, "You called the police on me. I'm going to call them on you!!" I just stood out there sobbing really loudly for a good five minutes. I think even the people across the street at the library could hear me. It was just the culmination of all the shit that has been going on. I finally went inside and called my mom crying. We talked for about 8-10 minutes before a cop came to the door. I was smart enough to put down the knife I had in my hand. I now answer the door with a knife, I'm so anxious. The cop wasn't really much help. We were going to talk to the real maintenance man of the building, but he wasn't home unfortunately. He then went and talked to Psycho downstairs and said not to talk to me and he said, "I don't want to talk to her". And then the cop said it was okay to go on with what he was doing...hacking everything down. So, as you can see, justice was served for at least one person at Twin Peaks apartments. Yay! I then called my case manager to talk to her. She said I should probably call the landlord back, because right after my confrontation I had called his answering machine and let out all the anger than has been trapped inside my 5'4" Irish vessel since all this started and said "Fuck" so many times I lost track. I told her I didn't think I could do it. I just wasn't feeling real warm and fuzzy towards him right then. My mom then called back and within a minute of her calling, I heard another loud knock and it was my landlord. He is livid. He starts yelling at me immediately. He said I had better get it together and stop hassling the other tenants, otherwise I would get thrown out of my apartment. When I told him I was afraid of the guy, he told me it was all a fantasy in my head....I was creating a fantasy. I told him he had said he was going to tell him to stop the incessant hacking around the complex. He looked at me and said, "He has my permission to do whatever needs to get done. And that's my final word!" I then told him he was manic and didn't know what he was doing and told him to turn around and look at what he had done. He turned around briefly and admitted he had "overdone it slightly". I then said, "I'm an artist. What if I decided to paint a large nude mural on the side of the building. Would it matter?" He said, "Well, you'd have to ask me." I said, Why ask? That other guy doesn't ask. He just goes out 7 days a week, from sunrise to sunset and never stops. He is not making anything better, he's making everything worse." Landlord: "If you don't like it, GET OUT!" Me: "Why should I have to leave? I haven't done anything. There is some scary guy lurking around the building 16 hours a day with sharp gardening tools and I'm afraid of him." Landlord: "That's all in your head. You're in a fantasy. If you cause any more trouble, you're out!" And then he started to walk away. In the meantime, Freaky Eyebrows is suddenly creeping up behind the landlord listening in. She's such a goddamn snoop. The landlord suddenly hugs her around the shoulders and says, "We all love each other here at the complex. We don't need people like you here!" I yelled back, "I like *****, I just don't like that creep downstairs." And then he just kept walking while I was still talking. I guess a sign of great respect in the School of Landlordumb. So I walked back into my apartment still sobbing and put the phone up to my ear. My mom had heard the whole thing. I had been standing there, holding the phone out to the side. She just told me to ignore the guy. so fuckhead wins. And I look stupid. And I have to listen to 16 hours a day of: Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. " Its kinda like when Shelley DuVal finds Jack Nicholson's supposed novel he's working on in "The Shining" and it just says, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" over and over again. That's how this guy is. Obsessive. I have no money to move. I barely have money for food until I get my disability check. I like my apartment. I like looking out my bedroom window into some trees. I like my fireplace in the winter. I like living across from the library. I like all the wild life I see around the complex. There's tons of all different kinds of birds, woodchucks, squirrels. Our little duck couple, Fred and Ethel Mertz just finally had their babies. Twelve little baby chicks swimming around the creek and peeping. They're so cute. And, maybe not so cute, I actually just saw a rat running over on the other side of the creek, right after the landlord stalked away. How appropriate. A rat following a rat. Would it be inappropriate if maybe I threw it in Garden Hacker's apartment and he got bit and he succombed to bubonic plague? In a way. It would actually just be good karma considering how many birds and animals he's displaced during his manic path of gardenly destruction this summer. I'm just tired of defending nature and being made out to be the villian and possibly evicted. Older Entries |
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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