Pizza and Sandwiches with a Side of Bullsh*t

Another food fest for the seniors today.

First was the weekly (Tuesday) pizza delivery, at 11:00.

No one stuck around to nuke their pizza and chit chat, because the Valentine Potluck was scheduled to begin at 1:00. So, I imagine pizzas are safely tucked in freezers for tomorrow’s meal.

I went back down at 12:30 to begin taking photos of the Potluck activities for our facebook page, but failed to get out of my seat, take photos and couldn’t tell you what was served, other than I saw plates piled high with sandwiches, salads, slaw and I don’t know what else. Then there was ice cream.

At first, I didn’t know what my deal was today that I didn’t take pictures. Apache even came over and inquired why I wasn’t. I just said there’s really nothing to take photos of, that I’ll take photos on the 14th at the Valentine Dance.

It hit me later that I lost interest in taking photos and withdrew into myself when, shortly after walking in, three different residents asked me to sign the giant Valentine Day Card.

I looked at the card, thought it cute, but just couldn’t sign it because, as I informed those requesting me to sign, I don’t believe in love”.

Trust me when I say I’m not being bitter, it’s just that that word “love” has always bothered me.

When James Lipton hosted Inside the Actor’s Studio, he’d end every interview with “What is your favorite word? … What is your least favorite word?

“Litigious” would always come to mind as my favorite, because I like the way it rolls around on the tongue. “Love” would always come to mind as my least because it has never felt right when I’ve had to say it – I feel like I’m not being truthful, and makes me feel uncomfortable when someone says it to me, about me or about anyone else.

So, anyway, that’s that.

After the potluck were presentations.

Introduced to us was a woman from the County Behavioral Health Unit, stating she’d be here on the property every 4th Wednesday.

She didn’t say why, no one asked why. We instinctively understood she’ll be here as a case worker to check on those mentally challenged residents I recently learned are being housed here.

Once . every . forth. week.

Hmmmmm?

My smiling and waving and the talk I had with the weird resident downstairs (Let’s call her Little Miss Loony Tunes) seems to have had a positive impact. When she saw me outside this morning, as she was leaving, she smiled and waved at me.

I still won’t open my door should she ever knock, because better safe than sorry.

The second presenter was a woman who had a Doctorate in Clinical Psychology. Her specialty was Emotional Support Animals.

Her presentation was upsetting to the entire room, and the room was packed because residents are concerned about the pit bull, which has not only chased a resident, but tries to jump over the railings to get at anyone passing by and has been reported to be off leash, with the owner allowing it to run around the grassy knoll, late at night.

All we heard from her was bla bla bla, Fair Housing, bla bla bla service and emotional support dogs have the most rights in fair housing, bla bla bla fear and anxiety is not a reason to exclude a service or emotional support dog. Bla bla bla double talk, safety in community is a viable issue and bla bla bla responsible owners, full control, insurance. Bla bla bla double talk some insurance companies won’t insure pit bulls as mental health dogs because the breed is so dangerous.

Bottom line is management is not going to do anything. Like with all the other issues, we’re pretty much told it’s our problem, we have to handle it on our own, “Contact Animal Control”.

One old gentleman in a wheel chair had a better idea and shouted out, “Shoot it!”.

Awkward silence.

Amidst all this, I got hit on.

Second time in a week, both times by gentlemen I’ve seen around for several years.

Is it the time of year or what?

After the meeting, walking back to my unit, I heard a voice behind me say, “Was that helpful?”

It was the Activity Director. She’d made arrangements for the second presenter and was asking for feedback as to whether the presentation made things better about having the pit bull on the premises.

“No” said I. “It was bullsh*t. We didn’t need to hear about all that rationalization. We just want the dog gone before it kills or gets killed”.

Sometimes you just gotta tell it like it is.