Then There Were Six

In addition to the unit across-the-quad, vacated by our former maintenance man, another unit has become vacant.

A few days ago, I saw people going in and out of the unit occupied by the sweet little 93-year old now deaf retired school teacher, who has been here since the building was first built 20 years ago – that would be downstairs, underneath next door neighbor. Inasmuch as it looked like just plants and incidentals, I’d assumed they were here to bring her patio into compliance with the new rule of “no more than three plants” and to de-clutter.

Learned today they were relatives who, concerned for their mother’s safety, due to the thuggish looking people they’d observed hanging around outside the gate, and on the property when they’d visit, moved her out.

She’s now living with a sister.

Out of eight units in the quad, that leaves six of us – and the possibility of whittling down to five if the neighbor underneath my unit follows through with her plan to move to the new complex in Bloomington.

It’s not looking good for my friendly little drama-free quad. With two vacancies, and a possible third, that’s two/three chances for us to get saddled with neighbors that bring with them some of the problems going on in other areas of the complex.

Apache has reported items being stolen off his patio.

The Seer has reported drunken parties, to 3:00 in the morning, in the unit across from her, with a steady stream of young thugs coming in and out.

I saw two of those thugs one night when, returning from taking granddaughter to run a late errand, they were walking towards me through the quad as I approached my unit.

Immediately, I was on guard -- positioning the keys to protect myself should the need arise in one hand, jogger's stun gun at the ready in the other hand.

I learned years ago to never let ‘em see you sweat. That criminals look for victim body language and that, even if you are fearful, you should walk with confidence, look them in the eyes and appear to be more trouble than they want to go through. So, at the ready, I looked the two in the eyes, walked confidently down the path, even said “good evening” as we met up. The big one actually looked afraid of me as he stepped off the path to let me pass, lol. I guess the little one thought he was cute (he wasn’t) because he smiled, returned my greeting with, “Hello beautiful” and stepped off the path to the other side to let me pass.

So though I feel confident I can take care of myself, I later thought about that downstairs neighbor and all the other elderly here who would have had a heart attack had they come across those two in the dark.

I’m sorry if I sound like I’m judging books by their covers (I am  ... judging that is) but people who look like those two guys did should not be walking around a senior complex – day or night.

I blame Nurse Ratched for running off all the long-time nice residents and, desperate to fill vacancies, bringing in sketchy people who qualify through various "programs".