Sorry about the silent treatment, it wasn’t because of anything you said or did, I just needed space – you understand.
Anyway, it’s been an interesting several days since I posted last. Saturday, I wrote a letter to the manager of our apartment complex about the crazy little bitch that does her craziness outside our window all the time. When I dropped it off to the manager, a sweet and slightly senile 80 year old woman, I talked with her and learned alot more about the delinquent and her family.
Apparently, according to a neighbor who’s been here a long time, the girl (with or without some other brain-dead friends) stole a plant of his, broke into his car a year ago, and when she was about 12 or 13 had some friends actually steal his whole car out of its carport spot. What was done about this, you ask? Not a damn thing.
The manager told me that the boyfriend little miss buttface is always arguing with, and getting drunk/stoned with, was told by her father that he wasn’t welcome in their home. I don’t understand this, he seems like such a winner. So, when the boyfriend wouldn’t leave, the father tried to physically force him out – so the tramp of a daughter called the cops… on her father. This was three days before I got arrested for Your Friendly Neighborhood Hatchet Man.
The cops did come out that day, and we all know exactly what happened… you guessed it!
Well, now that the boy is thrown out of his girlfriend’s house it comes out that he has no where else to go – see, I told you he was a winner. I don’t know if he is a runaway, or if his own parents threw him out too, or if he was hatched from an egg and left to fend for himself by some unknown species of retarded duck.
Apparently, with the help and blessing of the mother (Crazy Lady) the poor lost little puppy is living in one of the family’s dilapidated cars that take up valuable parking spaces in the carport behind our building. The car he’s bedding down in, I was told, once burst into flames when Crazy Lady returned home. Unfortunately, she had gotten out of the car before this happened. Needless to say, the car doesn’t run now. (Well, apparently it wasn’t needless because I said it.)
- apparently home IS where the heart is -
The manager became aware of this over this last weekend, and told the delinquent girl’s family that the boy could not stay in the car. So, here we are again at the guessing game I like to call, “What Are The Consequences?” Of course, the final answer to the million dollar question in this game is, “NOT A DAMN THING!”
The cops told the manager that they could not remove him because the car is on private property, and the boy isn’t breaking any laws unless the owner of the property tells him he is trespassing. I never see the actual owners of this building. I think they are a made up thing like the Tooth Fairy, or Easter Bunny, or the snipers who shot at Hillary in Bosnia.
I still see the girl and boy walking around, doing laundry, getting in and out of the bombed out car. I also see the parents, and they’re always leaving when I encounter them. If I had a kid like her, and a daughter’s boyfriend like him, I’d leave too.
Of course, I wouldn’t have anything like that because I am not a drunken white trash piece of shit that doesn’t care if my kids are breaking laws and risking their lives at the hands of axe wielding maniacs.
(There is more about the past few days on an upcoming post)
