TMI

Another thing that came out of Tuesday’s foray down into the Community Room was that a resident, new to the complex for about four weeks, brought her granddaughter down to wait for pizza delivery.

I don’t generally refer to folks in terms of ethnicity in this blog, but for purposes of telling the story it’s necessary to point out the new resident is a Hispanic lady.

When she walked in the door with the cute little blonde girl, around 11 years old, wearing a tee shirt that indicated she was into gymnastics, it was an obvious conclusion the girl was the woman’s granddaughter. It was also obvious the girl had some Black in her. She looked like a young Megan Markle.

Just an observation, meant nothing to me until grandma, at one point, said “It’s probably hard to tell, being blonde and all, that her dad is Black”.

“Not hard at all”, said I. “I could tell she was mixed the minute she walked through the door.”

Realizing my mouth had gotten away from me, I thought to temper what I’d said with, “She’s very pretty”.

Fortunately I wasn’t alone in not playing the game, having failed to pretend to be surprised, saying instead that it’s not that hard. Another new resident waiting for pizza delivery, chimed in an acknowledgment that it wasn’t hard at all.

I don’t really know what grandma was thinking that the child’s ethnicity isn’t obvious, but perhaps she thinks it’s cool to have a mix-raced family member and wanted to make sure we knew she’s a member of the club, so to speak.

Another thing that popped into my head later is the way Shadow described Apache’s attempt at fisticuffs.  He said Apache came at him, arms flinging wildly like a girl before others stepped in to save Apache from being knocked flat on his arse.

The image of Apache’s arms “flinging wildly like a girl” is now playing over and over in my head, causing me to occasionally LOL. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to not see that and be amused when I run into Apache from now on.

One last thing coming out of Tuesday’s session in the Community Room is a statement I made about the way Activity Director arrives on premise, then heads into Community Manager’s office, and there she stays chatting for a considerable time while residents do her job for her – pick up and deliver the pizzas, set up the tables, get signatures and distribute the pizzas.

“She’s always chatting while others do her job for her. Nice work if you can get it”, said I.

After Community Manager was called away by the school, because her son was injured, Activity Director had no choice but to join us in the Community Room.

BTW, the injury to Community Manager’s son turned out to be a sprained ankle.

But anyway, Activity Director announced she needs “volunteers” to make their involvement official. “Official” being fill out a form she presented, which form indicates a background check.

A background check to pick up pizzas and help out with other activities because Activity Director is a screw up?

The Seer and The Baker, who both help out with decorating the Community Room and organizing potlucks, said it’s ridiculous to have to go through all that for volunteering, but okay, sure.

The two ladies who use their own car to drive to the pizza place, pick up the pizzas and drive them back, using their own gas, said it’s ridiculous to go through all that for volunteering, no way will they submit to a background check. Activity Director said it's not a big deal, but you can't volunteer if you don't fill out this form and submit to a background check. The two ladies said, fine, we're done with volunteering.

I doubt they object because they have something to hide, because we all supposedly had background checks when we signed up for units in the complex, but you never know. Maybe there’s something management missed.

Will be interesting to see who picks up pizzas next week.

Activity Director also said she needs residents to give her copies of our medical cards. The purpose, or so she says, is to be able to arrange for on-site representation for plan members.

The office already has way too much information on my life documented in their office files, on their computers. They say everything is secure, but what’s secure in this day in age? There no such thing, so I’m not cooperating. I won't be giving them anything other than what they already have. And needless to say, I was done with volunteering a long time ago.