Caution, Senior Drivers

Thus far, I've yet to see that Karen venturing out of her unit to cast an evil eye towards her upstairs neighbor.

I did see that somehow someway someone managed to take out the gate’s keypad.

From the looks of how the gooseneck pedestal has practically been knocked out of its concrete base, the bad driver would have had to hit the unit with sufficient force to cause quite a lot of left front or left side damage to their car.

Management had to leave the entry gate wide open so we could drive our cars in, which made us vulnerable to criminals easily getting in to steal catalytic converters and, because of the cost of gas, syphon gas out of our cars.

Fortunately, none of that happened and management managed to Mcgiver an attachment onto the pedestal, up righting it to where the gate could be closed, and our keycards would work.

However, with the pedestal still leaning somewhat downward, it took me Cirque du Soleil type acrobatic to reach through the car window, down and over to insert the keycard.

I imagine our less flexible seniors entering the gate would have to get out of their cars or go through the gate at the opposite entrance.

Taking out the pedestal isn’t the worse of what I’ve seen, as one resident actually hit and took out the gate a few years back.

Then there was the time I was sitting in the Community Room and observed a resident — who wasn’t supposed to be driving, back over the flower planter surrounding the tree in the middle of the front parking lot, hit and take a huge chunk out of the tree.

Flustered, she quickly drove forward, raced towards the entry gate and nearly took that out as well.

No. 9 — who I still have not seen, is really getting a dose of what it means to manage a complex full of seniors. First the Talker/Karen feud, the damaged keycard entry pedestal, and who knows what else.

Deciding to replace cookware that wasn’t working for me, because the non-stick coatings that was supposed to last forever was peeling off — as a result of my poor cooking skills, I made a Walmart run on Saturday.

It wasn’t bad, insofar as being around a lot of people, but good luck if you need makeup because everything is behind locked protective cases. And the workers manning the self-checkout stations were uber diligent to make sure all us customers scanned and paid for every item.

At any rate, leaving Walmart, I spied a woman asking for help with rent and food. She had a child with her.

I wanted to give to her but, from where she was standing, the number of cars behind me and the light changing, I could not have safely done so. Not safe for her, not safe for me, so I drove on.

Coming up on the other market — the one I began going to when that creepy security guard at the corner market became a problem, I decided to pull in, see if the roasted potatoes had made it through the supply chain and were back in stock, which they were not.

Exiting the lot, heading for home, I spied something that gave me pause.

Same wording on the sign as the one I’d seen at Walmart, same handwriting, and a child.

This must be the husband.

I know things are harder for some than others, but it’s difficult to know who is sincerely in need, what’s a con — especially when I see them using children as a sympathy ploy.

At one point, the guy actually leaned over, took the child's hand, motioned for her to wave as my car approached.

I remember once, when I was working in downtown Los Angeles, a young lady with a clearly visible disabled arm was asking for monetary help.

I gave, as did others, and later, looking out the bus window, I saw her around a corner, giving what she’d earned to a guy. As both she and he were trying to be covert, looking around to make sure no one saw so she could get out there and con the public for more, I knew it was a situation of him pimping out her disability, and her allowing it.

Then there's the time three teenage girls approached me as I was exiting a train, saying their mom didn’t get her welfare check on time, they had no food in the house.

I myself was a welfare kid. Knew what it was like for us when mom’s check did not arrive before we ran out of food, so I gave the girls all the money I had on me — something like $35 and would have given them more if I’d had more.

As soon as I gave them the cash, all of a sudden their mom came out of nowhere to thank me but then added how difficult things were for her and "Here I am, pregnant again".

I looked at her with such disgust and would have grabbed the cash back if I could have, because here was this old ass grown woman, with teens she already could not care for, dependent on welfare, and she had the audacity to get pregnant, bring another child into the situation.

There have been other situations of feeling like I’d been conned, situations that have hardened my heart, makes it less likely I’ll give. Sometimes the spirit leads me to give anyway and, if it’s a con, that’s on them. But what I saw yesterday — duplicate signs, duplicate use of children, smelled fishy.

It made me feel better for having not been able to give to the first sign, caused me to not think twice about pulling over, giving to the second sign.