65 Days to Halloween

Arriving at the Pain Cave on Monday, seeing the truck hired to repair the damage done to the liquor store parked out front, I right away thought the liquor store had been hit yet again.

Fortunately, such was not the case.

The guy was putting the finishing touches on the job, which totaled $10,000 — $2,000 over the estimate.

Trainer tells me the license plate on the truck was captured on camera, but traced back as stolen.

Figures.

After the morning workout, I rushed back to the unit, changed clothes, headed out for Home Depot’s Halloween event, which turned out to be a waste of time and energy.

Not only did the Depot not have the "whole entire front inside of the store is to be filled with Halloween ware" as the worker said, there was even less than what was offered when I walked in on the 12th and the Frankenstein Greeter’s sign indicated 80 days to Halloween.

Greeter this time was the $249 Murderous Maple, announcing 66 Days to Halloween.

Seeing empty shelves and so little remaining, I assumed — like the worker had warned me, "Folks are already buying. So, if you see something you want, best to grab it now".

Seeing nothing of interest, I headed home to my needlepoint project, with a stop by See’s Candy Shop.

I put on my big girl panties this morning, made it down to the Community Room, participated in Arts and Crafts.

I forgot to take a photo of today’s craft before I began but, as you can see, it was once again a painting kit.

As was previously established, painting is not my craft, but I attempted to do something dark, eerie, a Halloween-themed pumpkin. However, combined with the color black not available, and my poor painting abilities, mistakes were made, which mistakes I tried to cover and ended up producing a hot mess that immediately went in the trash when I returned to my unit.

Oh well.

The gate situation appears to still be a hot topic around here, with one of the usual suspects complaining that she didn’t know how to get her keycard as the manager is never in her office.

"Probably looking for a new job" came out of my mouth.

When that happens — when words just come like that, it’s generally a premonition. We shall see.

I wouldn’t blame her. Managing this property is a tough job, what with trying to please Corporate — keep costs down by not spending money on repairs and trying to get residents off her back — complaining about manager not spending money on repairs … and rent increases.

The big news is that Bicycle Boy — the resident who has bullied other residents since before I arrived on the complex, the guy who scratched up Big Linda’s truck, fought with my old buddy Apache and more recently destroyed the shrine set up for Shadow, has been evicted.

Turns out, there were two shrines — one on the lawn outside Shadow’s unit, the other set up outside the gate, on the patch of city land where Shadow passed away. That shrine was constructed by Shadow’s guy pals — the guys he sat and smoked and chatted with daily.

I never saw that one. Probably because BB also destroyed that shrine and the guys did not rebuild.

What the guys did do was file a complaint with the office about BB and how he harasses and can’t get along with anyone.

One of many complaints over the years from other residents that went nowhere.

However, this time someone listened.

Probably because, according to the Baker, BB had also recently "gotten into it" with a resident who wanted no parts of him, asked to be moved to an upstairs unit, away from the ground floor, where it was easy for BB to harm him.

The resident was granted his move and BB was finally, after all these years, served with eviction papers.

He’s gone.

I would have loved to see BB’s face when he realized it was over for him.

I’ve tried many many times to get a photo of BB for you, came close but no cigar.

At any rate, he’s history now, residents can breathe a little easier, and no matter how many residents want manager gone, she’s aces with me for having the guts to do what should have been done a long time ago.

Needlepoint and Prison Break

That was my life this weekend — working on that never ending needlepoint project and viewing Netflix’s Prison Break.

The weather was walkable, and I really tried to motivate myself to get out, log in some cardio, failed, now feel guilty for having wasted the doable weather opportunity.

My reluctance to leave the unit has a lot to do with not wanting to be in the world where people reside, unless I of necessity have to — like workouts and grocery runs or want to engage in a fun event — like this afternoon’s Halloween event at Home Depot.

I’ve become such a recluse that, when heading out for a workout last week, I ran into Talker who said neighbors are beginning to ask what’s happened to me ……… do I even still live here. LOL.

Perhaps I should push myself, make an appearance at tomorrow’s Craft session in the Community Room, so folks will see I’m still alive.

I did have a visitor this past weekend — not my little stalker who, thankfully, is back in school. It was Twin 1.

On her way to Vegas to feed the homeless, she stopped by to give me a hug.

That was a visit I can appreciate.

I saw on Facebook last night, that Randy Rainbow was teasing a new video coming out this morning.

The teaser showed the old Randy. So hoping he’d redeemed himself from that last video, I checked it out and, except for the shameless self-promotion of his news channel, I’d say he has risen, is redeemed.

My new favorite saying “Slay the house down boots mama”.

Natives are Restless, Part 2

As far as I know, Monday’s uprising — by Next Door Neighbor and others who’d been locked out of the gate, through no one’s fault but their own, did not happen.

Reality must have set in as Next-Door Neighbor was a lot calmer when I ran into her upon returning from Monday’s workout, replying "Not yet" when I asked if she'd picked up her keycard.

It didn't hurt in calming the natives down that the gate was open Monday morning, and remained open the whole entire day.

Judging from observation, it looks like the gate is set to stay open during the day — to facilitate deliveries, caregivers, whatevers, then lock at night, maybe also on weekends …… requiring keycards to enter.

That seems fair, workable, and is the same system some of the other complexes in the area use.

On my way to the mailroom this afternoon, I saw management had posted an additional notice at the entryway, asking residents to pick up the new keycard.

That may be because some have yet to comply …… probably because they're driving unregistered or lapsed registration vehicles, of which NDN, with all her rumblings is of that category.

That's right …… I today noticed the sticker on Maxine (the name she's given her car), expired in May.

No wonder she replied, "Not yet".

She can't go to the office until she has a certificate showing renewed registration.

Yelling at management, over not being able to get in the gate, would have been a bad idea. Not just because NDN, and others, were in the wrong in this instance, but because that approach has never ever worked around here.

In fact, when that mean Nurse Ratched managed the complex, when anyone raised their voice at her, she’d call the cops, play the damsel in distress card ……… I’m scared, I feel threatened, and people disappeared — evicted and/or right away were escorted off the property.

I don’t know what’s going on with Ms. Neighbor after she yelled at manager. However, despite manager saying, "I want your son out of her today or I’m calling the police" and those two big intimidating guys showing up at her door, Compton is still here. Also, Ms. Neighbor herself is around more — seen on camera daily, like she really is living here.

What is not seen on camera, since the big guys knocked on her door, is Gandalf (Ms. Neighbor’s other son). He's MIA.

Gandalf is not showing up on camera during the day, not in the evening, not late night/early morning performing his ritual of walking to the edge of the walkway, peering out, walking back inside the unit. It’s like poof! Gandalf disappeared.

Could it be Ms. Neighbor's yelling at manager had nothing to do with those two big guys later showing up? Could it have been about Gandalf instead?

The mystery deepens.

At Monday’s workout, I asked Trainer if the final bill on restoring damage to the liquor store exceeded the $8,000 estimate.

"I don't know. They’re not done yet".

"What more is to be done?"

"The steel gate. It was bent and twisted (in the break-in)".

Inasmuch as I never noticed the liquor store already had the steel storefront gates, that I and some of the commenters thought would protect from break-ins, I popped in after working out to see for myself and purchase lottery tickets.

The current pots are huge — Powerball $44 million, Mega Million $498 million, Super Lotto $15 million, so I gotta try.

On the left side, behind the lottery machine, one can see a little of a steel security door.

I’m guessing that’s the new one they’re working on installing to replace the one I never noticed was there before.

Such gates being utilized at night — pulled across the storefront as security when the business was closed, is why I never noticed.

A lot of good it did.

To break through the glass storefront AND the storefront steel gate, the bad guys must be backing in with some kind of special souped-up truck.

Having seen a Cybertruck up close and personal, that could have done the trick and come away without a scratch on it.

Will be interesting to see what the liquor store owner comes up with next, but I don’t think there’s any way to stop the determined bad guys because, if concrete filled bollards are installed, they’ll just break through the window and walls of the Pain Cave or through the Laundromat on the other side.

Seems a hopeless situation for businesses in the area.

Up Close and Personal

Last thing I wanted to do today was to leave the comfort of the A/C in my unit, head out into the hot sun on an errand. However, running out of a needlepoint floss color, I had no choice but to head to the craft store.

After picking up my color, checking out the Halloween section, I was heading out of the parking lot when the dash cam caught, coming into the lot, one of those cars that remind me of Optimus Prime — the talking shape shifting car from the Transformer movie.

Having promised myself that if I ever could get up close and personal with one of those cars, I was going to see if the driver was friendly enough to let me approach, look inside. So, I did a U-Turn, followed the car to where it parked, near the craft store I’d just left.

Surprise surprise, the driver stepping out was an aging female Boomer who, when I approached was friendly and said, "It’s a Cybertruck and you’ll never guess who it’s made by …. Elon Musk. He’s very political, but I don’t care about his politics. I just like his products. I have five Teslas".

"All electric. I haven’t paid for gas in 10 years".

I didn’t ask what she does with the five Teslas, but surmised she’s very rich and purchased the five Teslas for family members.

Just to be clear, she didn't say past tense "had" five Teslas, she used present tense "have" five.

Must be nice to have that kind of money.

She opened the doors to let me see how roomy it is inside.

Check out this huge wiper blade.

She gave me a demonstration of how the trunk opens, saying something about a cooler inside.

I don't know what that "cooler" is but as for her saying everything costing around $101,000 nowadays .... maybe in her world, not in mine. LOL.

Nice lady though. I thanked her for letting me bother her.

The Natives Are Restless

Let me start by pointing out that not only did every resident have the monthly calendar attached to their door in a timely fashion — which is not always the case, it was distributed a week early.

I imagine this early release was to give us plenty of notice that the new gate system was nearing completion …… "Bring your parking permit number, along with your registration, to receive your new entry gate card".

So it was that Next Door Neighbor had me ROFLMAO when she knocked on the door yesterday afternoon, out of breath, sweaty, panties all in a bunch, venting because she couldn’t get back inside the gate after running errands.

"HOW DO YOU GET IN!?" she ranted.

After I stopped laughing, "With the new keycard," said I.

"WHAT NEW KEYCARD!?"

"The one mentioned in the bulletin attached to the monthly calendar".

Inasmuch as management devoted a whole entire single page, in big block letters to that topic, it would have been hard to miss, yet NDN said, "I DIDN’T SEE THAT! ….. THERE ARE NO ACTIVITIES ON THE CALENDAR, SO I DIDN’T READ IT!".

Well then, more the fool.

I’m laughing through the entire conversation because the situation, and NDN’s reaction, is just so comical.

Of course, in NDN’s mind, getting locked out is not her fault … "THEY NEED A BETTER WAY TO COMMUNICATE THESE THINGS INSTEAD OF STICKING SOMETHING ON OUR DOORS!".

She then went on with a litany of complaints about management — the rent increase (even though the county pays the bulk of her rent, and not being included in the recent increase), how none of us residents DO! anything about anything.

What does she want us to do … revolt, picket?

What complaints we have, in the grand scheme of things, are really not so serious as to push us over the edge, like she's been pushed by not being able to get in the gate.

The deal with NDN is that her background makes it difficult for her to adjust to living like us limited-income folks; and that came out when, during her rant, she said, "I’ve lived better" and how it is she can’t accept how most of us are like the "Walking Dead" around here, waiting to die, that she herself is thinking of getting a job to get enough money to move out because, "I DON’T WANT TO DIE HERE!".

I was quite impressed NDN used the word "Walking Dead", leading me to believe she'd watched the show, as she doesn't seem the type.

As for getting a job ..... she’s 80 and fairly fit. So, I suppose she could find something. I've seen folks older than she forced back into the workforce by the economy, so it's possible.

For those new to the blog, NDN saying she'd lived better was valid.

When she joined us in January of 2015, she ranted and raved about the high place she came from, what she’s accustomed to, that "I’m a very cultured woman" is how she described herself and how depressing and demoralized she was here — so different from the glitz and glamour she enjoyed as first, a military officer’s wife, travelling the world, having servants and, after leaving her husband, a career as a State Commissioner of Education, with power and employees.

Life circumstances placed her here as a Section 8 tenant and it took years for her to get over being depressed, demoralized about it, settle into living a limited-income life …… or so I thought she’d settled in and was over it; however, this thing with the gate seems to have pushed her a few steps back.

So, anyway, despite being a snob at times, I like NDN, listened, let her vent, laughed — because the situation was so not serious to me, and when I could get a word in, asked "How did you get in?".

"I had to wait until someone came and opened it, and there was a line of us stuck waiting".

She means that when someone with the proper card drove through the gate, she and the others followed in while the gate was open.

The conversation ended with NDN saying she’d be calling the office on Monday to lodge a complaint.

Inasmuch as she'd indicated there was a line of cars stuck outside the gate — (cars not registered or didn’t read the bulletin?, who knows), she might not be the only one filing a complaint blaming management for their own stupidity.

How it Started

How it Ended.

Repairing the damage caused by the bad guys was estimated at $8,000.

I don’t know anything about construction but, inasmuch as the entire front of the business was destroyed as though, rather than the back end of a truck ramming through, a bomb had instead exploded, $8,000 seems a lot less than I would have imagined.

Trainer feels the same. Thinks the final cost will be around $10,000 to $15,000.

Inasmuch as this was the fourth time the Liquor Store has been hit, I’m not holding my breath there won't be a repeat.

There has been a crew working on the complex gate for a few weeks — the old system died, had to be replaced, during which time residents were wilding out about the gate being open 24/7 for months — the residents were worried for our safety, bad people getting inside.

Why worry?, thought I.

Inasmuch as, judging by residents who don't pick up after their dogs do their business, and the number of packages I've lost, because the post office put in the wrong lock box, and the resident who received in error kept, rather than turned over, I'd say some of the bad people are already inside.

So anyway, now that the new gate system is about to go live, us residents have been asked to "Bring (to the office) your parking permit number, along with your registration, to receive your new entry gate card".

Seems simple enough, except I know there is going to be a problem with the part of the notice that went on to say "At this time, only residents with registered vehicles will qualify to receive a gate card" .

The words "At this time" is puzzling as to management’s intent, especially since it’s printed in bold and "only residents with registered vehicles" is going to create a problem for those of us I know for a fact are breaking the law — have cars that are not registered. Some, for one reason or another, don’t even have drivers’ licenses.

In the old days, back when management was strict about rules, cars without valid up-to-date stickers were towed away.

That didn’t prompt residents to get their vehicles registered. Instead, they signed up for garages, hid the cars inside so, when management did a sweep for violations, management couldn’t see the cars hidden in locked garages.

I imagine residents do that still; but the new gate entry cards will trip them up — not in getting out the gate but getting back inside.

At any rate, it’s going to be interesting to see how this plays out.

Would you believe, shortly after this issue of how the non-registered are going to handle this obstacle, this meme popped up in my feed ……

Also popping up — not in my feed but in email was this ……

How did I get so "lucky"?

The situation on the campaign trail must be pretty desperate if this person is reaching out to me ……… a letter no less, which I did not open to read, sent directly to spam, because 1) I wasn’t interested, and 2) The possibility it’s some kind of phishing thing.

If it’s not phishing and is legit from his campaign office, how did the Sofa Guy even get my address? Am I on his mailing list because he’s reaching out to those registered as Independent, or reaching out to the Blacks, or is everyone getting these?

Hilarious

I had to post the above. It was too hilarious not to share.

A few days ago, Randy Rainbow issued a new parody — "The Lawyer or the Conman".

Loyal fan of Randy that I am, I have to say this latest parody is disappointing, I don’t like it. (Sorry Randy) but I couldn’t even bring myself to view to the end.

In all fairness, I don’t know if it’s me — because lately I’m finding a lot of things I formerly enjoyed I no longer enjoy or if the problem is with what Randy put out this time. So, if you wish to assess the video, decide for yourself, it can be found on YouTube, as I so dislike it that I don’t want to support it by posting here.

I ran across a funny conversation amongst friends on FB last night.

One of my friends (a former coworker) had evidently been watching the Olympics Closing, saw Tom Cruise fly off a tower and, being a fan posted a shoutout.

A meanspirited friend of my friend tried to ruin her fun by posting "Your chances of getting close to Tom Cruise are about as real as a car free LA in the next Olympics", to which my friend replied "Wanna bet" and went on to say she’d once seen Tom C when he visited our building on business.

Of course, naysayer didn’t believe her, whereupon another friend of my friend defended her with "I think if anybody has a chance of getting close to TC it's you. You're the best stalker I know".

That’s when I remembered that when I worked in the same office/different departments as my friend, her job had been in Media Relations. In fact, it was through her, I’d met TV personality Huell Howser, of the PBS Series California Gold, in person.

I was a fan, and Howser was just as warm and personable in person, as he appeared to be.

So, anyway, I remembered that, upon learning, through her contacts, that Tom C was in our building on business — nothing to do with our offices, my coworker friend had indeed stalked his movements through the building, managed to capture a photo of him on the steps as he was leaving, sent that photo to our squad of coworker friends.

I’ve never been a fan of Tom C, but once a secretary, always a secretary — meaning, I’m very organized, and was sure I’d posted that pic back when I was blogging under the name BlackandBlue.

Though the bulk of those posts were lost in a snafu, I was certain some of the assets (photos) had been saved to flash drives where I’d managed to capture bits and pieces of the before blog before all was lost and I re-restarted under BootsandBraids.

I checked and, sure enough, quickly found the photo.

1998

Friend was gleeful when I posted the photo to the thread, to dissuade naysayer of the notion Friend's chances of getting close to Tom C "are about as real as a car free LA in the next Olympics" as she'd already done so.

Naysayer capitulated with "What's he doing walking up the stairs like a normal human being??"

Nice of Tom C to have smiled for the intrusion.

Handwriting on the Wall

Long-time readers might recall the Pain Cave has been burglarized/broken into three times — $1,000 thick glass window smashed, steel burglar bars bent, camera disabled, walls hammered all to hell, and not to take anything from the cave, but to gain access to the liquor store next door to steal lot and lots and lots of alcohol and the cash register.

After the third break-in Trainer contracted with a company that provides something like a Ring Doorbell System for businesses, which contacts Trainer’s phone when anyone stands near the window and also upgraded his security system/camera to detect the sound of glass shattering so, even if the bad guys manage to smash another expensive window, Trainer will get an alert long before they get inside to take down another wall.

Looks like the upgrades are working because, arriving for this morning’s workout, I see it’s not Trainer’s studio boarded up, but the liquor store itself.

Word is the bad guys took the direct route this time — backed up a truck and rammed their way through, took out the entire front façade.

Poor guy (owner of the liquor store). I don’t know how he’s going to stay in business with these constant break-ins, but at least they left Trainer alone this time.

In other news, a few hours after I’d posted Thursday’s fresh tea, two very big intimidating looking gentlemen — like bodyguards/enforcers coming to break kneecap, showed up at Ms. Neighbor’s door.

Actually, one knocked, stood at the door, the other stood back aways as backup.

It all looked very official, as both had credentials (badges???) hanging around their necks, and the one that knocked on the door was carrying a clipboard with papers.

I’d say the handwriting is pretty much on the wall, that it’s not looking good for Ms. Neighbor after yelling at manager but, unless I run into her and she shares the latest or I suddenly see moving boxes well before December, when she planned to move out anyway because she, in her words "can’t get along with" Manager, I won’t know if my perception, that the visit by those gentlemen bodes not good for Ms. Neighbor, is accurate.

According to the greeter at Home Depot, there are only 80 days until Halloween, my favorite time of year.

His sign indicates an in-store Halloween Event beginning August 26.

Asking one of the workers what the event entails, I was told the whole entire front inside of the store is to be filled with Halloween ware, that people are already purchasing — "We sold $20,000 of what you see here over the weekend".

Not exactly what I was expecting as an "event", but I’ll be there because it’s just so much fun to play with the animated characters, plus I’m looking for a patio-sized spider on a net that I can drape over Skelly for this year’s patio display.

Fresh Tea

Just when it began looking like things were going to be dull around here, nothing to post for a while, on my way to the trash receptacle earlier today, I ran into Ms Neighbor (aka mom) — mother of Compton and Gandalf. She was transferring clothes, neatly hung on hangers to her car.

"Are you moving?" asked I.

"Not until end of the year" said she.

Inasmuch as I’d already surmised she wasn’t living here full time, just checking in from time to time, the act of moving clothes out must be because she’s taking them to wherever it is she’s spending her time — a boyfriend’s place or her daughter’s home.

At any rate, I asked why she was moving end of the year and she went off on a tirade about the Complex Manager. Said she can’t get along with her, that Manager is rude, doesn’t do anything and is a liar.

Compton was sitting in his car, parked backwards, facing the walkway, watching his mom and I in conversation. When mom said, "She’s a liar", mom elaborated that the lie was about "my son" and, as mom said "my son" she turned and pointed towards Compton still sitting in his car observing.

That must have unnerved Compton. Probably though I was ratting him out to mom about leaving that note on my door to call/text him (I’m no rat. He's behaved since, so I’d never), because he got out of the car, walked over to listen to what we were talking about.

His mom said she’d gone to the office to complain about the $81 rent increase, had told manager, "FOR WHAT?! YOU DON’T DO ANYTING. I’M STILL WAITING FOR MY CEILING FAN TO BE FIXED!"

Not smart to yell at Manager. I've seen folks evicted/banned from the property in the past for that crime. Better to be calm, patient, use finesse to outwit outplay outlast.

Evidently Complex Manager is of the mindset that the best defense is an offense, so instead of addressing the complaint about the increase and her not doing her job, Manager turned the topic to mom’s son. ("Son", hahaha, because the two look so much alike I guess manager, like I did for some time, didn’t realize it’s sons, two of them).

Mom said Manager got loud and said, "I WANT YOUR SON OUT OF HERE TODAY OR I’M CALLING THE POLICE!"

Right away, I'm thinking Compton made advances towards another female resident and she had reported him. But no, Manager's beef with Compton was "HE YELLED AT MY ASSISTANT AND HER HUSAND!"

Mom says she later asked her son (Compton) about the purported incident and he said he never saw the Assistant or her husband.

Mom then went to the Assistant and her husband, asked them about the purported incident. They said it never happened.

What purpose was it for Manager to tell a bald faced lie?

I'm beginning to understand why residents and her own staff do not like her, are not comfortable around her.

This confrontation Mom had with Manager happened sometime last week/week before. Compton is still here, so I guess Manager calling the cops was an empty threat.

Mom went on to say, during the shout fest with Manager, in questioning the rent increase she’d asked what’s in the lease about these increases; whereupon Manager said, "We don’t have leases here anymore".

Well, that’s interesting, and may explain why so many residents are getting away with things I knew to be Lease Violations in the past because, if "We don’t have leases here anymore", then there are no restrictions, no Lease Violations.

Next Door Neighbor walked up on the conversation I was having with Mom — Compton standing to the side listening.

It was my cue to exit stage left when NDN and mom began talking about all the complaints they and others have about Manager and how it is "She needs to go".

With nothing to add to the conversation, as Manager has thus far been nice to me — probably nice to me because my contacts with her have been via email ... I long ago found it wise to keep a paper trail on our various managers, I finished my trek to the dumpster, headed back to my unit, logged onto the laptop to blog this latest tea while still fresh.

So as it stands, if mom and her sons are not evicted for whatever lie Manager can fabricate in the interim, it’s looking like Ms. Neighbor, Compton and Gandalf will be outta here end of the year.

The Window

TinTin’s window has gone through several transformations.

There was this first one.

Then a second.

A third last week.

Seeing our formerly Assistant Maintenance Guy, recently promoted to Head Maintenance, in this area several times last few weeks, and once earlier today, I thought to myself "He has to see and be aware of this tacky looking madness".

Lo and Behold, a few hours later as I looked out the patio window around 6 p.m. this evening, I noticed I could actually see TinTin’s venetian blinds — all the cardboard, fabric and whatever else she had covering her window had been removed.

Maybe Head Maintenance Guy said something to TinTin after all, or reported it to the Complex Manager and she told TinTin it’s not a good look for the quad, take it down.

The window is still not a hundred percent, as it appears some of what TinTin had stuck to the window is not coming off, or she's added something new.

I originally thought perhaps it was a shadow produced by the way the sun is hitting, but no. The sun went down, the shadow remains.

Even with whatever it is that's stuck to the window, it looks better than any of the other transformations TinTin came up with for whatever reason.

Time is flying by. Yesterday was already the one-year anniversary of the Alabama Boat Brawl.

It was way too hot to wear my commemorative shirt — the one honoring the symbol (the folding chair) of when those racists boaters FAFO, and though I was not aware of any celebratory activities near here there was a commemorative walk in Alabama, along the site of the riverboat brawl.

During yesterday’s workout, Trainer asked, "Can I tell you something and you not get mad?".

"Sure" said I.

"You promise you won’t get mad?".

"I promise".

At that point, I wasn't sure where he was going with this, but begin to worry maybe he was raising his prices or, for whatever reason, was going to have to drop me as a client.

Assured that whatever he had to say I'd not get mad, he said "Okay, Now don't get mad".

Trainer is not into politics, says he doesn’t care who’s in power as he doesn’t feel it will make his life better or worse. He doesn’t care, and I can’t blame him, because I had that same mindset my whole entire life. That is until No. 45 was such an embarrassment and irritation that I registered to vote just to help get rid of him.

Trainer is well aware I am not a fan, knows I have a voodoo doll and have nothing nice to say about that fool.

So, after ensuring I’d not get angry, Trainer says, he heard No. 45 say something that made sense to him. It was something about Kamala identifying as Indian, but now saying she’s Black.

THAT made sense to Trainer?

He’s probably been kicked in the head one to many times in Muay Thai competitions, but okay.

Didn’t bother me one bit.

I simply said, "I don’t care if she identifies as a purple frog. I’ll vote for anyone who is not him".

THAT ended that, so he went on to tell me how great the Deadpool and Wolverine movie is.

Ain’t Like it was Before

TinTin’s houseguests (the man and woman with the dog) were sitting on the stairs outside TinTin’s unit, in the already hot sun, when I headed for this morning’s workout at 10:45.

Thinking something was going on outside and they were sitting there observing, I looked around, didn’t see anything, so said "Good morning" and asked "What’s happening?".

The guy mumbled something I couldn’t make out, but took to mean nothing, so I didn’t think anything of it, figured they were just sitting there chillin, until I realized they were surrounded by luggage.

I once before saw them moving out with luggage, assumed they were taking a little vacation; and they did return a few days later. However, this time it occurred to me that this is their life — carting their belongings from place to place, couch surfing.

Returning hours later, after picking up groceries, running an errand, the pair were still sitting in the hot sun.

Evidently, they do not have a key to TinTin’s unit, were waiting for her return to let them in.

Interesting.

Passing the pair multiple times, as I made trips to/from the car, unloading purchases, I noticed the dog was not with them.

Oh! Oh!

Readers might recall the two of them originally had just the cutest pair of flat-faced/snub nose looking puppies — one all-black the other all-white, which the guy said were Argentine Pitbulls.

The white pup sadly passed away from parvo and later, when the guy tried to convince me the much older dog, with black/white trim on the paws, and a patch of white above the nose they now have, is the same little black Argentine Pitbull, I played stupid, pretended to accept his lie, but knew the other Pitbull pup must have also passed of parvo.

But why tell such a blatant lie?

So, anyway, going back/forth to the car, it suddenly occurred to me Oh! Oh! the dog was not with them, so I asked, "Where’s your puppy?"

"At my cousin’s house" said the guy.

Do I believe him?

NO!

Unless and until I see the dog return, I’m going with …… they are not responsible dog owners and something has happened to this, their third.

Truth be told — Why people who can’t seem to take care of themselves, are living from pillar to post, choose to bring a pet into this scenario is beyond me.

They have each other to worry about, don’t need the responsibility of a dog.

As the hours ticked by, there they were in the hot sun — no key, dog not with them as they waited for TinTin to let them in and, inasmuch as I was raised to be neighborly, I was tempted to take cold water down to them, invite them in to wait, use the bathroom but the words of a wise man (before he later became a dead walker) came to mind.

Shane's Walking Dead pep talk, telling Rick to be ruthless, that how one approaches things post-walking dead can’t be the same as pre-walking dead.

THAT and remembering how it is that "No good deed goes unpunished".

Things aren’t the same around here as they were when I first moved in. Too many people with questionable status now; so, I forced myself to let them suffer in the hot sun.

Besides, they could go across the street to the gas station or the corner 7-Eleven for refreshments and potty use.

It wasn’t until late afternoon, when I looked out the patio window, saw they and their belongings had disappeared, assumed TinTin had returned, let them in.

In other news, just when I thought it was safe because school was back in session, there was a ding dong knockety knock knock on the door around 8:00 pm yesterday.

It was a visit from my Little Stalker.

She tried to hide in the corner, so she could jump out and scare me when I opened the door, but I was onto her.

I guess school is not yet back in session.