Yesterday was Bingo Friday with the usual suspects.
The Community Room was decked out, by management, for the Holiday …… maybe in lieu of a tree this year, as I've seen none; but it's still early.
No way did Manager set this up. It's probably the work of the young Assistant Manager.
We were joined at bingo by one of the newer residents ─ the guy I’d had to school on etiquette …… told how rude he was being when he walked into the Community Room while we were in the middle of bingo, sat down in the big chair, opened his phone and began viewing some kind of program, open mic, no headphones. That guy.
The Baker said she talked him into joining us.
He looked reluctant to be there, so I’m not sure he enjoyed bingo; but time will tell if he shows up again.
Also talked by the Baker into joining us was Little Linda — a weird little resident who has been living here since long before I arrived on the complex.
The Baker really needs to stop with all this kumbaya crap, trying to bring everyone in the complex together as one big bingo family.
So, anyway, Little Linda jives very well with residents of lesser character, but doesn’t jive well with those of us who don’t fall into that category.
She quite literally turns her nose up at those of us not of her tribe, walks right by us without looking at or speaking to.
Consequently, when one of the regulars saw Little Linda taking a seat, she made a stinky face, looked at me, nodded her head in the direction of Little Linda, as if to say look look look at whose joining us.
Little Linda sat at the table behind me with people she’s friendly with — Di, Name Dropper and Hell on Wheels, and I caught her too many times sneaking glances at me.
Seeing me up close, watching me take photos, help winners at the prize table, the women at her table being friendly with me probably piqued her interest, but she blew her shot to get to know me many years ago when she rebuffed a friendly gesture made by me and has since given me the not of her tribe treatment.
Two can play that game, so catching her glances out the corner of my eyes, I in return refused to acknowledge her glances, did not look at or attempt to speak to her.
Of course, Di and Name Dropper being seated together was a mistake. The fact that Little Linda and Hell on Wheels were seated with them didn’t deter the two from getting in trouble. The two were quite literally yelled at, several times …… for talking.
One of the organizers would yell "HEY!" to quiet the two down so the Caller could hear the game winner verify the win by calling out their winning numbers.
Being yelled at didn’t bother them, not one bit. They seemed to enjoy it — looked at each other, giggle like naughty school children.
Paranormal John: You’ll be interested to know Hell on Wheels, who’d missed a few sessions, was escorted in by a caregiver I’d not seen before …… a male.
I guess she’s traumatized all the females the agency provided, so they are seeing if she’ll be less awful being cared for by a male caregiver.
And get this John, she now has 4 caregivers. They work in shifts.
Two are from an agency, two are relatives ─ one of which is her daughter, who comes on Sundays, cooks and leaves meals for the week.
All caregivers, relatives and agency people, are paid caregivers.
Once again, I didn’t win any of the 10 games, but I walked away with a poinsettia plant that, based on past experiences with poinsettias, I haven't a clue as how to keep alive.
A gift from the organizers as thanks for designing and printing bingo flyers, taking photos, managing the website.
The day before, while heading into the Laundry Room, I was approached by a fairly new resident who was upset, said "I don’t even want to live here anymore" because her unit had been burglarized …… several times.
She said her electronics disappeared during the burglaries, then her clothes and now, "I’ve got nothing left".
I suggested it might be the homeless a new resident who has been using her unit as a hostel — sneaking homeless people in at night, allowing to shower, spend the night …… for money we suspect.
We suspect for money because late one night there was a commotion outside TinTin’s unit. I was asleep, didn't hear it, but the noise woke up Next Door Neighbor, who tells me it was a couple, that looked homeless, banging on TinTin's door yelling, "Let us in, we paid, let us in".
There’s been no more of that from TinTin since that late night commotion outed her activities, but it did alert us to this side business some residents have going on.
And yes …… Next Door Neighbor reported TinTin’s commotion to management and a resident or residents in the quad, where this hostel is currently operating, reported to management.
So, when this resident was telling me about having been burglarized more than once, I suggested it might be the homeless being let in by the resident in her quad.
She said no, that it was a male resident around the corner. "He’s on drugs and he’s always walking over here and watching me".
Asking if the office knew of the burglaries, she said yes but the office told her they can’t do anything.
That didn’t surprise me, because that’s what they do in the office about everything …… nothing.
So then I ask, "Have you reported this to the police?", whereupon she hemmed and hawed, averted my eyes, managed not to answer the question.
My spidey sense went up.
I asked, “How are they getting into your unit?”.
It was well this, well that, hemmimg hawing again with no answer.
I left it with, "You’d better make a police report before they come in and kill you in your sleep" and walked away thinking I’d better get this story verified.
"She has problems, is not well", I’m told.
She’s told this story of being burglarized to several people and each time blames a different resident as the culprit.
Furthermore, her neighbors have security cameras ─ that’s how they know about the resident sneaking in homeless people at night.
Those security cameras are not showing anyone going into her unit, other than herself and her relatives.
So, the general consensus is that if …… as in IF this story of missing electronics/clothing is even true, it’s probably one of her own relatives.
And that’s the tea.
P.S. I learned the Thanksgiving Luncheon was not El Pollo chicken. Instead it was individual personal sized boxes of Kentucky Fried Chicken (KFC). They served the residents box lunches for Thanksgiving. Can't wait to see what management comes up with for the Christmas Party.
I may have to call off that morning's workout, go to the event, see for myself.
