Wuh Oh!

Yesterday’s management sponsored Thanksgiving Luncheon for the residents did not happen.

Wuh Oh!

I don’t know what happened, but at least they didn’t leave the residents hanging. What they did was to post a notice to our doors, last minute day of, to say the luncheon is moved to next Tuesday.

Interesting.

Of course I won’t be in attendance, but I’ve asked Next Door Neighbor — who is planning on attending, to take notes for me. Let me know why the luncheon was rescheduled, and rescheduled last minute, plus keep an eye on Manager for another meltdown.

Other than that, Thanksgiving being my least favorite holiday, my plans are to lay low.

Running errands yesterday, I was on the freeway, looked over and saw a couple of apartment buildings, with patios facing the freeway, where the residents had already decorated their patios for Christmas.

I noticed just this afternoon, that some residents have their tree up and have decorated their patios as well.

Seems rushing it, and I’m tempted. However, with so much on my plate right now — catching up on scrapbooking, continuing to work on that never ending needlepoint project (going on 4 years now), trying to find time to squeeze in gingerbread house decorating, the plan is — if it’s not raining, to make decorating the patio my Thanksgiving Day project.

Back in 2018 I’d blogged that the mall boutique of fashion designer Kate Spade — of the ugly overpriced handbags that had people standing in line to purchase, with security standing by, had suddenly shut down. The shut down was shortly after she left this world, by her own hands — bipolar and mental illness was publicized as the cause for taking herself out.

Seems her legacy lives on because, walking into Macy’s yesterday, what did I see right up front was a section devoted to Kate Spade — same ugly over-priced handbags, women gathering around, oohing and ahhing, purchasing, but no security this time.

I must be missing something, because I don’t see myself spending $268 for this handbag.

I think it's supposed to be a sandwich

Or $258 or this one.

A fuzzy toaster perhaps?

I don’t think these two were the least expensive handbags being offered.

Later, popping into Walmart to pick up a gingerbread house kit. (I plan to do the one I won at bingo, but it's mini and basic. I'll do it for practice, but wanted something more challenging, which I found one I liked at Walmart).

While there I saw Martha Stewart on the Mantel and Snoop Dog on the Stoop being offered as options to Elf on The Shelf.

Cute and, if I had the space, I’d go for both of them.

When Next Door Neighbor and I were talking this morning, she said something I don't know if I should be insulted or not.

We usually chat while standing outside our doors but, it being kind of chilly outside, I invited her in.

Her eyes were darting here, there, checking out my unit as we talked about all the stuff going on about Manager's meltdown.

I've mentioned before that Next Door Neighbor has exquisite taste, probably the most beautifully decorated unit in the complex. Inside is literally breathtaking, like a museum, should be on the cover of Home Beautiful.

That’s who she is, except for the same old ugly arsed doormat that belies all the beauty inside.

My unit is more suitable for the cover of Mad Magazine — unconventional, functionally neat, a little southwest, a little feng shui, but it comes together in a collage that makes me feel good/comfortable/peaceful, and I think makes the few that enter feel comfortable as well.

So, we were standing inside as Next-Door Neighbor’s eyes roamed around the room, then she began following her eyes — still talking but walking around eying things in a manner that made me feel the need to apologize.

"I’m not fancy like you", said I.

She was smiling the whole time as she walked around, so that made me think I was not being insulted, she was not judging my tastes, just being interested and putting it together in her own mind as to who I am.

OR was she judging ....... because at the conclusion of looking around she said, "Your place makes me think of college kids".

I don’t feel judged, more like complimented, in a back handed sort of way, that my unit says that who I am is young, youthful.

Maybe she thought later about her college kids statement, thought I might be offended, because she later knocked on the door, gave me a gift.

Scented Candle

THEN, on this second visit, her eyes began to wander again.

She made a comment that the throw rug, wall hanging above the couch, and needlepoint all seemed southwest Indian inspired, asked if I was born in Texas, LOL.

"No, but my people came from Texas/Oklahoma, so I guess it's in the blood", said I.

Then her eyes landed on the Thai figurines Trainer passed on to me when he bought his business partner out of the studio and was getting rid of his partners left behind items.

"These look expensive. They might be worth a lot of money", said Next Door Neighbor.

And just when I was beginning to think for sure nothing she'd said was meant as an insult, that she's just material minded and my collage of "college kid" decor is just not something she's accustomed to seeing around here, or in our age category, she said, "It feels spiritual in here".

She got the vibes, felt the good energy of it all, kudos for that.

So, am I the youthful college kid, a red neck trapped in a Black woman's body, or a guru?

Maybe I'm like my unit, a collage, a mixture of all three.

TGIF!!!

And not just any Friday, but a bingo free Friday. Which meant that, after the morning workout, I did not have to rush back to the complex, waste three hours on bingo.

Instead, I stopped by the market for supplies, returned, locked myself inside, did as I pleased the remainder of the day.

It was difficult to decide what to wear to the morning workout, because it was raining when I awoke.

Thinking long sleeve top, boots, rain jacket, umbrella, I was thrown off when rain stopped and the sun came out.

Just when I pivoted to regular wear, the sun went away and the rain started again.

From there it was rain then sun shining — vacillating off/on minute by minute, and even rain with the sun shining at the same time.

It was wild.

Then came a downpour, followed shortly by the sun shining, outside quickly drying up.

I took it all to mean the Heavens are just as upset, disturbed, pissed off as we are about what’s going on down here.

When all was said and done, I stepped out in boots, a warm hoodie, carried an umbrella and, of course the weather changed. I needed none of that and was burning up in that warm hoodie by the time I walked into the Pain Cave.

Trainer’s class of fighters-in-training were ending their session as I entered and, as usual, I greeted all with "Namaste!". Which, in my world translates to "The Christ in me salutes the Christ in You" and then I added "TGIF".

Trainer looked amused, said "They don’t know what TGIF means".

"Really? They don’t?", asked I.

Trainer took a poll, and many did not know what TGIF stood for.

They’re all young teens and 20 somethings, which may be why. But still, I’m flabbergasted, because TGIF is a universal thing.

So, anyway, it’s been a nice leisurely afternoon of crafting — trying to catch up on photos that need to be added to the Creative Memory book.

This one page I completed today is likely to get me in trouble with the family, as the Playdate Summer of Science photos led me to build a design around them that’s based on an Emmy Award winning TV series.

I tried to go in a less controversial, more kid-friendly direction, but the photos kept leading me to be designed thusly.

I myself am pleased with the layout, it makes me giggle, and though family might not find the layout amusing, it will probably fly over the heads of future generations .... be puzzling, just like TGIF is to this generation.

So it is what it is.

Which of you get it? Know the Emmy Award winning show that inspired me to go in this direction?

The Invitation

Who wants to be my Plus One?

In addition to this prestigious??? event, management is hosting a Thanksgiving Luncheon for the seniors on the 19th.

Color me amazed and suspicious — two events in a row.

Complex Manager has made it clear that events for the seniors are not of her own volition, rather are bones Corporate tosses us just prior to a rent increase, to justify the increase.

We'll know on the 20th what that increase is to be this time around.

How do you like that for timing? .... two parties just prior, with the Luncheon one day before amount of the increase is to be announced.

I guess that's kinder than the year management hosted a Luau for us and, while we were occupied with the Luau, rent increase notices were attached to our doors.

But still …… just the fact that Manager has to do these events, and is expected to host, is obviously traumatizing for her.

Inasmuch as I won’t be able to eat whatever management serves, it’s not worth my time to sign up for the Thanksgiving event just to watch Manager have yet another meltdown. I’ll have to depend on the grapevine for feedback.

If Manager were smart, instead of hiding in her office so staff would have to host the event, she should just call in sick. Staff would still have to work the event without her, but the atmosphere wouldn't be as tense as at the last event, and the optics would fly better than sulking/crying in one’s office.

As for 45/47’s Inauguration, I'm sure I'll have better things to do that day, won’t be watching it on TV, let alone attending as a seat filler.

Old Dogs New Tricks

Turns out old dog can learn new tricks because, arriving at bingo just minutes before the start, I found no one had touched my cards, beads, water bottle.

That doesn’t mean bingo was without drama.

Di walked in, sat at the table with me, as did Name Dropper — the resident that came to us in July and was quick to say her granddaughter is an actress, had a role with John Travolta when she was a child.

Name Dropper said she doesn’t hear well, which may be why she was so LOUD.

Rather than clap, Name Dropper would HOOP AND HOLLER when someone won. In addition to which, she and Di talked when they shouldn’t have, completely oblivious to the disapproving glances cast their way by other players and the organizers.

At one point, I warned them ………… "You two are going to get in trouble", but Name Dropper seemed to take my words as a challenge, finished her conversation with Di with a look in her eyes which indicated she was telling me "You can’t tell me what to do".

It wasn’t too long after, when I’d stepped away from the table to help a winner at the prize table, and saw one of the organizers walk over to Name Dropper, lean in, say something to her.

When I returned to the table, Name Dropper had a hurt expression on her face and said, "I’ve just been told I’m too loud. Am I loud?"

"Well yeah", said I as I nodded in the affirmative.

Guess that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, because she then turned to Di, who had also been away from the table — probably to get a cupcake and, looking to be on the verge of tears said to Di, yada yada yada "I’ve never been so insulted in my life", yada yada yada "I almost got up and walked out", yada yada yada, "I’ll never acknowledge or smile at that woman again".

Di commiserated with Name Dropper, began to advise her saying, "This is what you do when people say things like that to you".

I'd tuned out by then, and didn't catch what Di told her to say.

Name Dropper and Di continued to rehash the audacity of being told to pipe down off/on to bingo’s end.

I also met a new resident who is a returnee — lived here a few years ago, just moved back.

Poor thing is in for a big surprise, as things aren’t like they used to be.

Checking out the prize table when I walked in, I’d spotted a small gingerbread house kit; decided I’d pick it as my prize if I won a game.

My winning wasn’t looking good, until suddenly, with only two more games to go, I won — called BINGO! at Game 8.

Later, when bingo ended — and Name Dropper and Di were still discussing the incident, one of the organizers heard Di say the word "F _ _k", called me over to say how outraged she was.

Big fifing deal …… This woman obviously doesn’t know me, thought I as I said, "I say it all the time".

"But you don’t say it in here, in front of us".

"Not yet".

That’s twice when someone tried to drag me into inconsequential issues. First was when Name Dropper tried to get me to commiserate with her hurt feelings, and then one of the organizers wanted me to be as outraged as she by someone using a four-letter word.

The ladies don't seem to realize we’ve got bigger problems.

After having been on edge for such a long time, dreading the outcome of the election, like I previously posted ……… I am strangely mellow now.

Nothing is fazing me. It didn’t even faze me that The Baker served the cupcakes she made in red/white/blue patriotic liners, which I took to be an indicator of her possibly being a red hat. The liners being the equivalent of trucks I've been seeing, since the election, deliberately driving around with big American flags waving in the air.

She’s never indicated so, I’ve never asked, but inasmuch as her daughters are married to cops and firemen, it makes sense The Baker is more than likely leaning that way.

Oh well, everyone has to be something, so I didn’t make a big deal of it other than to let her know I know by saying, "Um hum, red, white and blue liners".

She laughed sheepishly.

So, that’s the tea on this episode of bingo with the seniors.

The Other Friday

Being a roll with the punches type human, now that the election is over in the worst possible way, I find myself strangely calm, nerves no longer on edge, over it.

Standing on my spiritual training and belief that everything happens for a reason, that the Universe has a plan, afraid to hold onto hope in the first place, once all was said and done I didn’t even cycle through the normal stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression. I went straight through to acceptance and moving on.

I did stress eat last few days. Probably gained 5+ pounds but, other than that, it was business as usual when I awoke this morning, realized tomorrow is the other Friday, of bingo’s every other Friday schedule.

I will say this though ………… Trainer is rather gleeful about the outcome of the election, saying he was better off when 45 was prez.

I’m no political expert, but I do think in an unemotional logical Leonard Spock manner, and think that’s because Trainer was still benefitting from the Obama years when 45 took over. By the time Biden took over, 45 had mucked things up so that the hard times Trainer attributes to Biden were roll overs from 45’s years.

At any rate, Trainer thinks prices will now go down, yada yada yada.

Dream on.

I countered with, "More than likely, you’ll be deported and I’ll lose my Social Security".

"Do you know how hard it will be to get rid of Social Security, all the hoops?"

"They managed to overturn Roe vs. Wade, so …………"

"That was during Biden".

"Sure, but put in place to happen by 45".

At any rate, our back and forth ended with my saying "You do know I won’t be able to afford your prices and will have to opt out of training if I lose my Social Security".

"I tell you what, Shirley. If you lose your Social Security, I’ll train you for free."

"Deal".

Trainer is so sure 45/47 couldn’t dissolve Social Security that he’s bet free training against a raise in his fee — the amount to be decided by me.

Like a fool I said an additional $25.

He said he’d have been good with $1.

At any rate, I’d love free training, but I hope I’m wrong, Trainer is right, that Social Security will be safe from the dark lord and his minions.

Time will tell.

A very short time I’m guessing.

So, anyway, tomorrow's plan is to rush down to the Community Room after tomorrow morning’s workout, set up bingo cards, glass chips and my water bottle to indicate seat taken.

I feel comfortable that, after the week before last’s hissy fit because two old biddies played stupid and took my spot, no one will try that again, though I’m actually hoping someone will, so I can calmly turn around, walk out, make that the reason I’ll no longer burden myself with bingo duty.

Help! I Woke Up

I so didn’t want to wake up to this morning’s news, but here I am, and here we are.

Nothing to do but roll with the punches, do the best we can with the cards we’ve been dealt and the chaos and fleecing of America that’s sure to follow.

Waiting to Exhale

Nerves still on edge, I’m afraid to wake up tomorrow morning — learn I can breathe again or if we’re screwed.

I need to drive to Redland today, have my cellphone looked at because it’s been tech heck with not being able to first swipe to accept calls and then, when I changed to tap — which worked for a while, but now doesn't work either and, when a call comes in, the phone goes to some kind of Assistant that reverts the call to text.

Absolute tech heck.

Problem with driving to Redlands is, I can’t trust myself to be around people while nerves are on edge because, if I run into poor service, I can’t promise I’ll be able to maintain. Not turn into a Karen.

I did yesterday — turned into a Karen that is. Asked to speak to the Manager, made a complaint, walked out without picking up a prescription and then Yelped a bad review for the local pharmacy.

Stopping at the pharmacy after yesterday’s workout, I was pleased to see it was a slow day — only three of us in line. I'd be in/out lickety split.

The first customer was at the counter already, picked up his package and walked away. When he walked away the young lady at the counter, instead of taking Customer No. 2, walked away and began a conversation with a coworker about something personal I wish I’d paid attention to or recorded, because she left Customer No. 2 and I hanging for 10 minutes or more.

Customer No. 2 kept turning around, complaining to me, making yak yak yak fingers with her hands to indicate the girls were ignoring us, talking instead.

"I know, I can hear them talking", said I.

When counter girl finally acknowledged Customer No. 2, took care of her pick up order, she repeated the poor lack of customer service process.

Instead of calling me to the counter, she went back to her personal conversation, picked up a few prescription packages, filed them, at  which point I was talking outloud ……… "I can’t believe she’s filing when I’m standing here ... Can she not see me? .... Am I invisible?", I said to myself.

By then, I’d been standing in line on a slow day for at least 20 minutes or more, leaned on the wall for support, thought about taking a chair from another section, dragging it over, waiting it out, but then decided screw it, walked away. But not without stopping to make a complaint with the Manager, who began walking towards the Pharmacy saying "I’ll have a talk with them" (counter girl and the coworker she’d been chatting with, while ignoring customers).

Later that night, I yelped the heck out of that Pharmacy. So, I’d best stay home today, shampoo the carpet or something, keep away from the possibility of running into more idiot people, because I’m all out of suffering poor customer service without making a fuss.

On another note, patio Halloween decorations are back in storage; except, seeing how some had turned their skeletons into lamps, the plan was to order a lighting kit and turn Skelly into a lamp.

Dragging Skelly inside, having researched the process of making a base, running electrical cords through Skelly, yada yada yada, I came to the conclusion too complicated for me, and decided to go another way.

Running the pole of the sun lamp I'd purchased a while back through Skelly's body, I've got a hilarious year-round lamp that makes me smile.

Open up and say Ahhhh

It works.

Low Expectations Part 2

Turns out no one won Tuesday’s Halloween Costume Contest.

I’m told that after Manager had that meltdown, left staff to host in her absence while she locked herself in her office, "crying because no one likes or appreciates her".

She’s not wrong, she's not liked, but there’s a reason for that. A reason or reasons she might want to analyze, instead of crying like a baby for attention.

Now, I don’t know for sure if residents saying Manager was "crying" is meant figuratively or literally. However, I did see she’d locked her office up so tight that I couldn’t see inside when I passed by. So, it’s possible crying is what she was doing in there.

At any rate, I’m told that after that "things got crazy".

When Manager did not return, staff didn’t know what to do. So, the maintenance guys shut down the serving station, told everyone to come take what you want, someone gave a gift to everyone who wore a costume, and the party was over.

No games, no contest, management’s "Spooktacular Day", scheduled from 11am-3pm, was over and done with by 12 noon .... 30 minutes after I myself had exited.

Holy Moly!

What an embarrassment.

The Baker says she’s going to ask Activity Director if she could have a talk with Manager about the things she's done that makes residents dislike her (the disrespectful way she talks to people, locking up the refrigerator, denying us access to the kitchen for our own events, yada yada yada).

If Activity Director is foolish enough to accepted that mission, my guess is her days employed here would be numbered. Then Manager would nut up on the resident or residents who'd asked Activity Director to counsel her.

I saw that happen in real time when working in the law department of a municipality.

The City Attorney, for whatever reason, asked for feedback as to how he was doing running the office. Two attorneys took him up on that, brought troubling issues to his attention, whereupon those attorneys were fired shortly thereafter.

There was a bit of a hew and a cry. The City Attorney was asked if the firings were retribution for essentially receiving negative feedback and, of course, he lied and assured that was not the reason.

No one accepted the firings were coincidences, but were powerless to do anything about it, except learn situations like that are traps to be avoided.

Will be interesting to see if history repeat itself should Activity Director choose to accept that mission, falls into the trap.

My little Stalker did a banging job on her Harley costume.

Knock Knock Knock Happy Halloween!!!

My Little Stalker trick or treated me yesterday, showed me the fake stick-on nails she’d be wearing with her Harley Quinn costume at the school's Halloween event.

Asking if she was going to wear multicolored hair, like Harley, she said yes.

Sounds like a very cool costume. A character I might consider doing in future, except I don’t think anyone around here would have a clue as to what character I'd be dressed as.

In fact, when Little Stalker was telling me her character, Grandma Talker asked, "Do you know who that is?" because she herself had not a clue.

Not to be a smarty pants, but "The Joker’s girlfriend", said I, LOL.

So, my cosplaying as Harley would not go over well here.

When at Disneyland, I saw outfits for another character I’d have liked to play, but for the fact no one here would know who that is either.

Jedi

On the 16th of Halloween, Scary Mary asked readers "What’s your favorite Halloween costume?"

I’d commented that I couldn’t remember what costumes I’d worn as a child but that, as an adult, I’d been superheroes, a nun, a tossed salad, Pikachu, a Minion, Michonne from Walking Dead, Wednesday Addams, and this year I planned to be Minnie Mouse.

You’ve seen my latest — Minnie Mouse, and you can see my Wednesday Addams over on my buddy the Catalyst's blog, so today besides being the end of Halloween also being Throwback Thursday, I dug up photos of those past costumes.

I was a nun at the office party in 1976.

In 1978, I was big into Roller Derby, had my own boot skates, wore them to the office, dressed as a Roller Derby Girl, knee pads and all.

I actually worked the whole day at my desk in skates, rolling from office to office as work required.

This next photo is of coworkers and I, heading out to lunch, stopping to show just how brutal those roller derby girls could be .... knocking down opponents, stomping on them.

Being a tossed salad was a fun time.

I was Bat Girl in 2013 and again in 2019.

In 2014, I was Captain America and Wonder Woman a time or two thereafter.

I did a Turkey Trot as a Pilgram.

The Medicare Guy, here at the complex to see a client, put down his clipboard and asked for a photo of my Pickachu character to send to his young daughter, saying that Pokémon character was his daughter's favorite.

I did Walking Dead Michonne from 2014 thru 2016, once with a coworker's son who cosplayed as Rick's son Carl.

Do you still have those costumes, I hear you ask.

Except for the ancient ones — nun, roller derby, tossed salad, and Michonne’s cape, I do still have the making of each costume and can repeat, though I prefer doing costumes I’ve not yet done.

In other news, Talker called yesterday to say that, after I left Tuesday's event, word got around pretty quick about Manager's salty attitude — walking in, walking out, saying "No one appreciates me".

The result being she made a spectacle of herself. A lot of talk went around about Manager's inability to see herself as the problem. Staff is uncomfortable around her, residents hate her, yet she sees herself as a victim — "It's not me, it's them",

I also learned, from Talker, why so few costumes.

It was like those I'd asked why no costume had responded ... "Because of HER!". Many had planned to not attend, but then Talker, and a couple other residents got together, encouraged others to attend, saying that the way our rents had been hiked, we are paying for it. So come just to eat, take food home, leave nothing for Manager to take home for her own use.

Great plan. It worked.

The worms turn.

Low Expectations

Today was management’s Harvest Festival/Costume Contest, described in the flyer as a "Spooktacular Day" from 11am-3pm.

Based on past experiences, I was expecting the festival to be a lot less than spooktacular. So, even though I had a costume prepared, I was leaning towards not being duped yet again into wasting my time with another one of their less than manganous attempts at tossing us residents a bone.

Thinking my time would be better served with catching up on my Creative Memory scrapbooking projects, but curious, I decided to do a drive by. I headed down around 11:05, said a few hellos, took a few photos, snaped a photo of Greedy Grabby at her request, had her take a photo of me, and was back in my unit by 11:25.

The food looked great.

Head Maintenance Man and his new Assistant were behind the kitchen counter and residents lined up to be served piping hot giant pretzels and corn dogs.

On side tables were cupcakes, cookies, popcorn, apple slices, juice, chips, sodas.

It was a great spread ……… unfortunately, nothing my gluten free self could eat, though I was tempted to risk getting sick on one of those giant pretzels.

What tea I caught, just before I left, was about Manager.

While staff was serving, she came in all grumpy like, walked over to the kitchen counter, complained to staff — loud enough that residents heard her, "NOBODY APPRECIATES ME!" Then stormed back to her office.

Guess she wanted us to kiss her substantial arse for throwing us a bone.

That got residents to talking, complaining about how Manager is responsible for the turnover — residents moving in one month, out the next; and that her being mean is why we no longer have a waiting list and now have "now leasing" signs posted all over the front.

At any rate, I did not return for the 12:30 costume contest. So, I have no idea who won, what the prize was — probably gift cards to the market; but very few were in costume during the time I was there.

It’s likely more costumes showed up; but while there, I only saw Di as a Zombie, one of the women who took my seat at bingo dressed as a Witch (go figure), a new resident as ……… I’m not sure, but dressed in a suit, wearing a mask, I'm guessing Phantom of the Opera, Talker wore a monkey mask, Hell on Wheels wore a fancy flowered head thingie, then of course there was Minnie Mouse.

I was undecisive as to wear the ears I’d planned for.

Or the ears the kids gifted me at Disneyland.

I went with the ears I’d planned for.

Minnie’s hands are white gloves that I used a black marker to make the signature three knuckle lines.

I asked two residents, who always wore costumes before, about the lack thereof this year. "Because of HER!" (Manager) they both said.

Interesting that they’d attend, eat the food, but hated Manager so much they drew the line at dressing in costume.

When I asked Dream Lover why no costume, he said "I never wear costumes".

Not true, because he dressed as a Pennywise the scary clown last year, and a Dinosaur the year before.

Whatever.

On the way out, I purposely walked by Manager's office to see if she was sitting there sulking, feeling sorry for her unappreciated self, upset that, for whatever reason, she'd had to throw residents a bone, but saw the blinds drawn so tight, that I couldn't see inside.

I don't think she's comfortable around people enjoying themselves. She a control freak, prefers having people under her thumb — quiet, fearful.

Oh well. Sucks to be her.

And Now This

Long time readers might recall the story of how it was, back in 2017, when I had that weird encounter with the neighbor living in the unit beneath mine.

When the former neighbor of that unit was taken to a care facility, the woman who now occupies the unit (known in the blog as Illusive Unfriendly and sometimes referred to as Creepy Girl downstairs) moved in quick, fast, overnight.

So quick, fast and stealth that it was days before I realized someone was living in the unit, then it was days, maybe even weeks before I actually saw her.

Returning from the market, I one day saw a woman sweeping up leaves in front of that unit, made the assumption it was she, took the opportunity to say hello, welcome her to the quad.

The encounter went like this ………

"Hi, are you the new neighbor?"

"Yes" she replied without looking up to make eye contact.

"I’m your upstairs neighbor, my name is Shirley".

Still looking away, she began laughing.

Puzzled, I just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say.

"A lot of Shirley’s" says she seemingly to herself.

"Oh. Have you met other residents named Shirley?"

"No. I just know a lot of Shirleys".

"You won’t have a hard time remembering my name then."

Silence, still evasive – turned away, avoiding eye contact.

She hadn’t given me her name, so I asked, "What’s your name?"

If she said, I didn't hear her it, so I just left it at "Well, welcome."

Silence.

My instincts were telling me to run, but instead, I pushed on, "Have you met any of the other neighbors in this building?"

"I don’t socialize. I don’t even go to the Day Room (meaning the Community Room). I don’t like to be around people."

"We’re pretty nice here."

Whereupon, she finally turned in my direction, looked me dead in my eyes and cold as ice punched out, "I … DON'T … LIKE … PEOPLE! … I'LL … SPEAK … BUT … THAT'S … IT!!"

A little frightened by the dark energy she was displaying, I said "Okay then", and fled up the stairs.

It irked me to no end that after chasing me away with "I DON’T LIKE PEOPLE" it became obvious her dislike of people did not include male residents. I concluded she didn’t like people who had innies, just liked those with outies …… if you know what I mean.

But if that’s how she wanted it, so be it.

I’ve stayed out of her way since, and because she came across as cra cra, I’d pass her on the walkway, tell myself she doesn’t exist and was able to walk by her stone faced, my eyes dead, as though she really wasn’t there.

And so it went for four years until she resurfaced in 2021, showed just how cra cra she was by complaining to the office, on more than one occasion, that I was disturbing her peace by bouncing a ball 3:30 A.M.

Trust me …… the only thing I’m doing at that hour is sleeping, and the ball she accused me of bouncing in actuality was someone doing laundry at that ungodly hour, churning sounds coming from the machines.

Her bedroom is right next to the Laundry Room and she couldn’t tell the difference between noise coming from right next to her, attributing it instead to my bouncing a ball upstairs?

I was beginning to take it personal, thinking she was having an issue with me in particular. Perhaps upset because instead of trying to win her over, play nice, I’d ignored her for so long. I also told Next Door Neighbor perhaps her issue with me was jealousy because "she’s young and ugly, I’m old and pretty".

Why I referred to her as "young" will become clear as you read on, and though she has no problem attracting the outies, I think she'd unattractive.

At any rate, that was that until this Saturday when I went to the Laundry Room, walked in, saw her (Illusive Unfriendly/Creepy Girl) folding clothes on a corner table.

I think I might have instinctively forgotten who I was talking to and said, "Hello".

I don’t recall if she said "Hello" back, but when I subsequently got back to acting as though she did not exist, went about my business of putting clothes in one of the washers, she suddenly spoke up. Said that machine wasn’t working, and went on to say how she’d tried and failed to get what money she’d put in the machine back.

Next thing I know, she’s talking to me like we’re old friends. Actually, spilled some tea about TinTin.

It was old tea having to do with that rumor of TinTin bringing bugs with her, saying her (Illusive Unfriendly/Creepy Girl) boyfriend on the property (Big Friendly Guy) had told her this, that, the other.

Old tea that she had probably been itching to tell someone, but at least she was being friendly.

Seeing an opening, I asked her name. This time she told me and added, "I know your name is Shirley".

Did she remember from years before when I told her my name, or has she and her boyfriend been talking about me and he stood up for me, told her I'm not a threat, too old for her to be jealous of? Who knows.

Whatever her issue ─ not liking me personally, not liking people with innies, and taking seven years to tell me her name, her issue has nothing to do with her being of old age as she was given some kind of special dispensation, was allowed to move in at not yet 50. She was in her 40’s and may still not yet meet the age requirement for this complex.

And now this …………