When last we met readers, I had encountered Jackie the Crazy Bird Lady, and experienced my rise and inevitable fall to the position of neighborhood asshole. That was, until I met George.
I was in the back yard by the hedge, raking up a pile of leaves when an elderly gent walking a Pomeranian stopped to say hello.
George: I’m George and this is Gidget. You must be new to the neighborhood.
Gidget: *high pitched yammering*
Me: Hi! We just moved in. I’m Cheryl.
George: Well welcome to the neighborhood, Carol!
Me: Close enough!
George: I hope you like it here. I moved in 50 years ago and liked it so much I stayed.
Me: It does seem lovely.
(I decided to just roll with this. He’s a nice old man and he does not appear to have heard about my a-hole tendencies. )
George: Oh yes! Why my next door neighbor is ninety and has lived here for decades! Her daughter lives across the street over there. (Points in the vague direction of Jackie the Crazy Bird Lady’s home.)
Me: Oh! You mean Jackie?
(George threw me a text book knowing glance…)
George: You’ve met her then?
(What is this? A crack in the dark pit of my neighborhood reputation? Do I sense an opportunity? Gently, neighborhood asshole, gently….)
Me: She did come by. There was a small matter of some birds in her roof-
George: -you let her on your property? Oh! She called the city on me one day when I had some people doing work on my yard.! When I spoke with them, they said that every neighborhood has one, but we got the Queen of them all! I told her never to come in my yard again!
(So let me get this right – I may be the neighborhood asshole, but Jackie, the Crazy Bird Lady is the neighborhood Queen? Of Crazy!? I felt the world shifting beneath my feet. )
Me: Really? (I could no longer suppress my interest). Go on, George…
(George could sense that he had an appreciative audience and was warming to this now.)
George: Well I’ll tell you, she’s a bit of a cuckoo. She lives in a duplex there and when her new neighbors moved in to the other side, she went over and gave them laundry soap. Told them this was the only laundry soap they could use, and she’d appreciate them not using dryer sheets because she can smell them. Through the cement wall.
Me: GET OUT!
George: Oh yeah. She calls the city on so many people, there a couple folks around here who won’t let her step foot on their propery.
(I’m loving this. George is my new best buddy. I was vacating my position as neighborhood asshole as he continued to talk – packing my “World’s Greatest A-Hole” mug in a box with my whoopie cushion and air horn. Looks like I wasn’t going to be needing this stuff!)
George: And she does so much laundry! She’s always trucking it across the street to her mother’s house to hang it on the line. Strange stuff! Little diapers and things!
(Eh? What’s this? We’re starting to veer off from Crazytown to Bedlam. Little diapers? )
George: …and of course, she’s got all them cats. Hairless cats.
(Hairless cats. And little diapers. My eyes widened and just then George also seemed to put it together.)
George: I guess they must be for the cats. Huh.
Bring me some sardines, woman. AND STOP STARING AT MY TAIL!!
The conversation petered off a bit awkwardly then. George bid me adieu (actually, he bid Carol adieu), and he and Gidget continued on their walk.
What have I learned from this? Folks, I could ride down the street on a teeny tiny clown-cycle, slapping myself in the face with an old fish while trying to run down small children, and I still couldn’t beat the old school wacky that is the Crazy Lady with the hairless cats in diapers. When Jackie came to my door the very first time, I could have chased her off with a broom, shrieking insults, and I would still be looking pretty good to most of the folks around here. I had nothing to worry about. The bar in this neighborhood is pretty high, and it may be serving hallucinogens.
All that is left now is for me to figure out how to get invited in to Jackie’s house, wearing my hidden cat-cam.
Because it’s all about setting rational, achievable goals.
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Holy.Crap. I am clearly not spending enough time at your house.
Yeah we need better weather so we can do some back yard sittin’ and sippin’.
Ha! See me? Psychic …
INdeed!
Let’s leave aside the likelihood that Jackie has marked you up as trouble since the ladder/bird incident… I say you give it a week or so and knock on her door saying you’ve heard she has hairless cats and that you’re thinking of getting one… You should be able to weedle a viewing out of that little concoction. Just don’t blame me for the eventual fallout
Viewing? I want to get my mitts on one of those!
Which part of NEVER EVER, EVER talk to anyone in your neighbourhood did you forget? These are exactly the type of things that are going to blow up in your face if you continue to speak to people you live near. I look forward to possibly being at your house when this impending disaster occurs.
I just wanted to be popular for once…is that so wrong??
Wrong, no. Sadly optimistic…yes
I expect an invite to the future gong show. I’ll bring the wine and be ready to duck and cover as required!!
Will do!
Please don’t get carried away for I don’t want the “law” visiting me as NOK. Only in your mind is Tom whatshisname the Law. Just think before you act…….that’s all I ask!
Who does she mean by “Tom whatshisname” Who is this Tom guy, some new hairless cat aficionado I haven’t met yet?
My aunt had a hairless cat. UGLIEST thing EVER! I don’t know if I’d put a diaper on it…but clothes would improve the cat! If you see the cat(s) with clothes, I hope you’ll have your phone (and thus a camera) with you.