The Plot Thickens

Taking an early morning stroll around the complex this morning, to check out the parking situation, I saw where at least one carport paying resident was protecting his spot with orange cones.

Running into Apache, I asked, “Did anyone get towed?” (Because the No Parking Signs management had posted indicated cars in the no parking area would be towed).

“Two cars” said Apache. “But because they’d given out the wrong information as to where to park, they didn’t tow the cars. They moved them into garages.”

That’s fair, thought I, inasmuch as it was management’s screwup.

Then, along about 6:30 tonight, I was alerted by a knock on the door that at least one of the two residents, whose car was moved to a garage, didn’t know where her car was. She came out, didn’t see it, saw the signs, thought it had been towed.

And of course, it was after hours, no staff in the office to tell her otherwise.

The knock on my door was a helpful resident looking for that woman (described as “Black with long hair” — which is what led to knocking on my door) to tell her she’d learned no cars were towed, but moved to garages.

I’d say management is going to get a beat down over this not calling the resident about moving her car, but no. It might not be management's fault.

Office records show which cars/license plates belongs to which resident.

If management looked up the records and let the owner of the other car know where his/her car is located, they are in the clear because this other car is not on file. The resident had indicated to others, “My son just loaned (sic) me the car”.

So that’s two people, the resident and her son, worried tonight about “Dude, where’s my car?”

That’s been Day 1 of the paving project.

I also ran into the Baker today. Her foot is out of the boot, back into a shoe, but she’s still having to get around by use of her husbands motorized chair.

I asked how her neighbor is doing — the nice old guy that had a bad fall in McDonald’s and broke his pelvic bones … let’s call him Jeep Guy because he drives one just like mine.

The Baker’s reply was to get a disgusted look on her face and say she’d had to stop checking in on him because he’d become so demanding.

She said, before her own surgery, she’d been caring for him but his demanding behavior had gotten to be too much for her. She told him she had her own upcoming surgery to worry about, so Jeep Guy’s mother moved in to care for him.

Baker said Jeep Guy continued to be demanding, to moan and groan and cry so much that his mom couldn’t handle it. Mom sent him back to the nursing home.

Wow!

At only 87˚ outside, with a nice breeze, the walk to the Pain Cave was pleasant.

The walk back wasn’t too bad, except the return trip is a slight incline. Just enough of an incline to cause my after workout legs to lock up on me, about a half block from the complex.

Not at my best as I reached the complex doors ─ sweating, limping and a little out of breath, whom did I see but Handsome Man. He’d spied me from the Community Room window and walked over to hold the door open for me.

Noticing I was somewhat in distress, Handsome Man asked if I was okay.

“Had to walk to and from the gym because I didn’t want to lose my parking spot”, said I.

“Well you made it”, he laughingly said.

So embarrassing, but at least my makeup was still pristine. Sometimes, by the end of a workout, I’ve lost part of my Maybelline eyebrow. LOL.