Mouse Trap, Part 3

It was way too hot to be heading out for this morning’s workout, yet I did, survived the workout, was melting my way back to the unit, crossing the parking area, then paused to take photos of that new repaving job melting away in the hot sun.

Not properly sealed, I was expecting the lousy job to not last but this melting in the hot sun is wild.

So, anyway, a car came down the drive honking at me.

It was Meat Man.

He paused, rolled down the window, began throwing kisses at me then said, "Happy 4th".

"Happy 4th to you as well, you bad boy, and congratulations", said I. "I hear you’re engaged", and then I put on a faux sad weepy face and said, "Did I miss my chance?"

His face fell, he looked discombobulated, like WHAT!?, turned his face away, down — quickly thinking about what I’d just said, I guess. Then he got his composure back, turned his face back towards me as I continued to ask in a singsong sorrowful poor me tone, "Did I miss my chance? Awwww did I miss my chance?"

He then smiled, said "No, you still got it" and drove away without further ado, but I’m sure what I said, whether true or not (which I doubt) is going to mess with his head — like what does she know ..... who she been talking to?

Homegirl is gonna laugh her arse off when next I see her, tell her what I did.

I also ran into Head Maintenance Guy this morning, but earlier as I was heading to the Pain Cave.

He had a smirk on his face as he greeted me with "It’s getting hot".

I read the smirk as his face as laughing at me, feeling like he’s in control, got me by the per se.

Why?

Assistant Maintenance Guy is on his honeymoon in Cancun, which means HMG is all we have to rely on, for a week or so, and I had to submit yet another workorder.

I'd sensed weeks ago that the oven was about to fail as it wasn't reaching proper temperatures. It died on Thursday.

Burners still work, just no oven and even though its hotter than hades, I still do use the oven to roast veggies, salmon, bacon and the broiler for toasting s’mores.

So HMG is strutting around, smirking, thinking he’s got me at his mercy, by the per se — inconveniencing me until he gets good and ready to address the workorder.

Guess he doesn’t realize, in his illusory sense of self, that I and others have been working around his incompetence for years.

"One monkey don’t stop no show", as my momma used to say.

I’ve already learned how to make candied walnuts and roast veggies in the air fryer, crisp up bacon and make tostada shells in the microwave and I’ve ordered a mini counter broiler for s’mores, et al.

I can wait for a Real Appliance Technician, or as close too as we get around here when Assistant Maintenance Guy returns from his honeymoon, or even longer if I have to. So the hold HMG thinks he has on my per se is just another one of his illusions.

As I was dropping off the request for a Real Plumber, I'd overheard staff talking about AMG getting married.

So, when he came up to fix that issue, I’d gotten into conversation with AMG about the upcoming nuptials.

Male 47, he’d never been married before, and is marrying a female 67.

"You’re marrying a cougar", said I.

"Yes and proud of it", said he.

I loved that.

He said his friends were giving him grief about it, whereupon he'd outlined to them all the things she does for him, asked his friends if their girls did the same for them — like when he got home tired from a hard day’s work, she’d rub his feet, and they had to admit their girls wouldn’t do that for them, which pretty much shut them up.

"Yes, you’d better marry this one", said I, because there are few and far between that would baby him that way.

As I recall, having dated younger men after my divorce, they were fun to hang with for a time, but could become tiresome due to their childish nature, need to be babied, so didn’t last long with me.

Such was the case with Melvin, fresh out of the Army in his mid-20’s when I was in my 30’s.

It was the 70’s when life was all about no strings but, unbeknownst to me, Melvin wanted strings and had been consulting his friends (my friends, our friends as we all ran in the same circle) as to how they felt about him marrying an older woman, a divorcee, with children.

Now, I didn’t know this at the time we were an item. It was after I’d moved on, and we were just friends, that he told this to me.

My thought was HOW DARE YOU! ... THE NERVE! to have such a discussion with his/our friends on the assumption I was interested in marrying him, that I’d have said yes.

So, anyway, not long after we were no longer an item, I was told of his engagement to another girl.

The boy was anxious to get married, start a family I guess.

Okay. Whatever. Good for him. Meant nothing to me.

But then, even though I’d long moved on, he began calling me — at home, at work, telling me about the conversations he’d had with friends when he was thinking of proposing to me, that he didn’t want to marry this girl he was engaged to and that "If you marry me, I won’t marry her".

"Not interested, I don’t want to get married", but Melvin wasn't hearing that. The closer it got to his wedding day, the more he called, begged, pleaded.

On one call he was saying how he was always thinking of me when he was with her, yada yada yada. I don't recall my side of the conversation, but it would have been along the lines of we were long ago done, I wasn't thinking about marrying him or anyone else, if you don't want to marry this girl then be honest, tell her, break it off. A coworker at the other desk, hearing my side of the conversation, said, "If anyone told his fiancé about what he's saying to you, she’d not believe it".

I knew that. If I’d tried to warn her or told one of our friends to warn her, he’d have spun it as my being jealous, trying to break them up, so I ignored his pleas, went on with my life right up to when he had me added to the guest list at the wedding.

Yep, I got an invitation to the wedding.

Did I go?

Yes.

Why?

Why not?

It was a party, an adventure.

I was surrounded and catered to by a group of our friends — probably the same group that dissuaded him from marrying an older woman, a divorcee with children, but inasmuch as marrying him was out of the question in the first place, I didn’t hold their input against them.

After a time at the reception, I got tired and went home.

Shortly after, there was a knock on my door.

It was the groom.

He’d left his own wedding reception.

After seeing me with that group of friends, then not seeing me and asking someone where I was, he wanted to make sure I’d gone home and not gone off with one of the boys.

He stayed at my place for over an hour and then proceeded to call me every day from his honeymoon.

I later also learned that not only did he leave his reception but that I was pictured all through his wedding album, as he kept instructing the wedding photographer to take photos of me until the photographer said he only had so much film, that he could either "follow the bride around", take photos of her, or "follow this other woman".

On one of those calls from the honeymoon, I’d asked how he explained his absence from his own wedding reception.

"I didn’t" said he. When Debra had asked where he'd gone, he said "I told her to don’t ask me about where I go, what I do".

With our having the same friends, and Melvin still being a friend of sort, I was privy to see how that marriage went.

The fact that he disappeared at his own wedding, and then told her to not ask about what he did, was grounds enough for Debra to walk away, but she didn’t.

I never told any of our friends about the "If you marry me, I won’t marry her" so Debra never found out about that. She didn’t even know about all the other ways he disrespected her during their marriage, which things he recounted to me as he continued to call or drop by for years and years and years and years, having finally given up the idea of our ever being an item again and just needing to talk/brag about his adventures with other women, complain about Debra and her family, right up to the day when he went to a wedding, didn’t take Debra, returned home to find Debra, the kids, all the furniture gone.

She left him, filed for divorce.

I applauded her.

He had the nerves to be bitter, bash her, whereupon I told him how I felt about the way he’d treated her all those years, that I was grateful to have not wanted to marry him because I could have been her.

Inasmuch as I’d never judged or criticized him before, he had a few choice words about how "disappointed" in me he was, how he’d now "lost respect" for me, as if I cared because I'd long ago tired of his keeping in contact.

I reiterated that I knew the truth of what went down because I was there to witness how awful he'd treated Debra, that he’d gotten what he deserved, asked him to not contact me again, and that was that.

Last time I saw Melvin must have been around 15 years ago, when I was in Long Beach for something or other, ran into him as I was walking down Ocean Blvd.

His mom had passed, his only other relative — a brother had passed, Melvin himself had lost his job due to an issue with drugs, he was pretty much an unhoused person on the streets, said Debra and the kids were in San Diego. He was still bitter, somehow blaming Debra for "ruining his life".

Sixteen Days Later

Craving a cucumber salad this past Saturday, finding the cucumber I had on hand was no longer edible, I headed out to drive to the market and saw the paving crew's truck out front.

The crew was here to finally get to the other side of the complex, I surmised.

Heading out for yesterday’s workout, I took the long way around the complex to see if they finally finished the project.

They did, but Trainer tells me that, when he passed by the complex on Sunday, the crew was working.

Interesting.

They worked on Saturday AND Sunday — the Sabbath/Mother's Day but, after 16 days with only about 5 or 6 actual working days, they at long last got er done.

So now the question is ....... because no sealant was ever placed, when we get into triple digit heat, will the driveway melt onto the bottom of our shoes and tires?

Guess we’ll find out when we get there.

Over the weekend, I binge watched that Sci-Fi Classic "Fringe" all the way to the final episode.

The team did not save the world per se. What they did was to change the timeline to get rid of the Observers and send our world back to a time when the daughter of the two lead characters was still young and safe from being unalived by the Observer who took her life in the future.

The Observers initially came from the future out of curiosity, to watch — learn how our screw ups created their future existence, but then decided to push us aside, use their advanced powers and ability to take over.

The Observers had all these rules and regulations, dos and don’ts for us humans to abide by if we wanted to continue to live what little life they allowed us to have — sort of like what the Rethuglicans are trying to do to us.

Art imitating life.

The only way to get rid of the Rethuglicans ... oops, I mean the Observers, was to reverse time to before they first teleported here from the future.

There were perils along the way for the Fringe team, all manner of strange humans and other beings the team had to outwit and outplay but, in the end, time was reversed, the Observers were uncreated in our timeline and no one seemed to be the wiser as to our world ever having experienced what it had.

I wish we could reverse time to before No. 45 became prez and we could forget he ever was anything more than a guy on TV.

So, now that my binge watching of Fringe is over, my latest obsession is Food Network’s Ciao House.

I thought it strange that, when Chef Omar was set to be El Capo (Team Captain), he suddenly came up with debilitating back pain and had to be hospitalized.

I don’t think he was faking the pain in order to get out of the assignment. What I think happened is he was so worried, so stressed about being placed in charge of a team that it triggered the back pain.

Now down to only four chefs remaining, can’t wait to see if Chef Omar gets to return to the villa, continue to compete after his stay in the hospital, and who will be the ultimate winner.

Just in case you haven’t already seen this ...

Who’s on First, Part 2

Heading out to the dumpster around 12:30 this afternoon, I saw yet again that our paving crew is awol.

They did suddenly reappear on Tuesday, after that mysterious absence of three/four days, worked at a remarkable pace, covered a lot of ground — paved the back of the complex, right side and right front areas and, amazingly, paved the front entry area.

The project was to have been completed yesterday morning, with only that morning set aside for "sealing/striping" because all areas were to have been paved by then, except they were not and the crew was once again no-shows.

I don’t have to worry about moving my car any longer as they got to me on Tuesday, as I surmised they would when I saw how fast and furious they were working and had proactively moved my car out of the way. However, I just talked to another resident who’d one morning got awakened early, by a neighbor, to move his car, as the crew had shown up and his car was in the work area. "How was I to know" said he inasmuch as nothing has been according to schedule, but said he was grateful to be alerted before a tow was called in.

My guess is, that in the chaos, an assist by a neighbor happened to more than a few residents.

As of this morning, there is still the left side and left front areas to be paved, so I’m guessing that, when I head out for tomorrow's workout, I’ll see the crew present and rushing to finish what’s left to be done before the weekend; but who knows as evidently they’re being paid by the job and not by the hour.

At any rate, I feel comfortable enough to cancel my car storage cube — with 17 days remaining, before I get charged for another month.

All this start, stop, showing up, disappearing, paving at warp speed to make up for lost time begs the question of work quality. Should it look like this?

In other news, while out and about a few days ago, I met the resident that moved into the upstairs across-the-quad corner unit — the bad energy unit. He was on the walkway coming in as I was going out, so I didn’t get to converse with him, ask him how he liked his unit, etc. I just introduced myself and welcomed him to the quad. He seems a personable enough little fellow, no physical ailments insofar as I can see, so I guess so far so good for him.

I’m not convinced there’s not something weird going on with that unit, so I’ll continue to keep quiet about what I’ve seen and continue to observe.

And now this just in ...

Oh please do it. Sue him again.

Shock and Awe

Waking up feeling crummy this morning — moving slow, feeling sluggish and loopy, I decided today was a good day to sit on my arse and do nothing but scrapbook, with the TV providing background noise.

I was pleasantly doing so when, all of a sudden around 11:00, everything went quiet, the power went out.

Taking it as a sign to go outside, get some fresh air, I suited up and started off with a slow stroll around the complex.

You could have knocked me over with a feather when, just as I’d predicted — that "My luck … now that I’ve taken the car out of storage, the crew will magically reappear", there they were, working on the back and right side of the complex.

Not only were they working but, still with a lot to do compared to what more needs to be done, they were working fast, picking up momentum.

Figuring that, at the pace they were paving and striping, they’d reach my side by tomorrow — that is if they show up, I later moved the car to one of the spot they’d managed to complete so it wouldn’t be in the way of wherever they next went.

The slow walk invigorated me. By the third time around, whatever had weighed me down in the morning was gone and I was moving at a pretty good clip.

Just as I was ready to head back upstairs, see if power had been restored, I ran into Red Light who said Activity Director had something going on in the Community Room — a Mother’s Day Luncheon, so I pivoted over to the event.

The room was packed. Even a few guys showed up, which is fair because just like I was both mother and father, some guys are both fathers and mothers.

The lunch was not the dainty little tea sandwiches one would expect for Mother’s Day, but instead were huge sub sandwiches from Jersey Mike, which I thought more appropriate for Father’s Day.

No matter to the residents. They will eat anything from anyone who makes free food available to them but, when I noticed Red Light and newer resident Homegirl, with whom I was seated, were not eating their sandwiches and inquired why. Red Light said it tasted funny. Homegirl just said she wasn’t hungry.

Interesting.

As with most things management arranges for us, there were strings. We didn’t have to listen to a lecture, but the luncheon was funded by a Medical Group that is setting up an office in one of the offices across the street.

Since it takes three months to get an appointment with my doctor, and nothing is done but her try to push pills, medications, expensive unnecessary procedures, I may do some due diligence and check the medical group out for emergencies.

There was also a woman promoting her Insurance Agency. She provided us with cookies and roses.

I don’t need an insurance agent, but accepted the rose.

Homegirl, being the open friendly type, previously shared with me that she’d been in property management and sees a lot of things wrong with how this complex is run — no surprise.

She’s also a very talented artist, attended art school and, besides painting, creates all manner of items that she sometimes sells at art fairs and cultural events.

She showed me photos of her work, but she does so much and so many different art forms that I can’t begin to tell you what I was shown, except that some is beadwork and painting on cups, designer water bottles.

This cup that I won at bingo last week is her work.

Though I didn't so much as win it as it was she gifted it to me.

Spotting it on the prize table when I walked in, I was immediately drawn to it, coveted it, hid it under a kitchen towel so no one else would see and win it before I did. Evidently Homegirl was watching and, when she won the first game, she took the cup as prize and gave it to me.

At any rate, conversation today was about trouble she was having with two of the guys. One — who she named/described but I can’t picture him, kept coming onto her, hung around outside her unit, came into the laundry room when he saw her there, which prompted her to hold her keys between her fingers to use as a weapon if need be.

The way she described how he hit on her, the guy sounded ignorant, uneducated and, when she got her keys ready and told him to buzz off, he dropped a note into her laundry basket that she didn’t see until later. The note saying, with misspellings, how is was that he wanted to get to know her.

I’m not clear on whether he’s given up the pursuit, whether she’s reported him to the office (as if that would do any good) but she said she’d had quite enough and went off on the other one.

Whereas the first guy came across as ignorant/uneducated, the other guy’s approach shocked me — and I don’t shock easily.

He’d been following her around, camping out on a bench in front of the Laundry Room across the quad, which is where he can spot her comings/goings, telling her how he’s a minister, a barber, does security work on the side.

"WAIT! I know this one", said I.

It’s Handsome Guy, the same guy I'd blogged about, just a few days ago, who had come onto me again.

Just to be certain it was the same guy, I told her his name and where he lived. Bingo! same guy.

Shock and Awe.

What shocked me was not so much his playing the odds, throwing feelers out for more than one of us hoping to reel someone in. What shocked me was how he’s always been polite and gentlemanly in his approach to me, but some of the things she shared about how he talked to her in his approach was pure sleaze, insulting, trying to be slick like a pimp.

He tried to talk himself into her unit by, after observing her young nephew often visiting, offering to come into her unit and cut the child’s hair for free.

When that didn’t produce, he somehow knew she’d be in the Community Room on Pizza Tuesday, or followed here there, and made a point of also being there.

Now Homegirl is a big girl, a really big girl — boobs, hips and whereas I dress to hide/downplay my features so as to not draw unwanted attention, there's no way to hide/downplay what she's got.

At any rate, she appears to be driving the men wild and, Handsome Guy is reading her as cheap, easy, on display, someone he can approach at a street level and, when he followed her to Pizza Tuesday, he said something so suggestive, looked her up/down with a nasty smirk while saying it, that she blew her top and began cursing at him in front of everyone — "loudly" said she.

What he said was .... when Activity Director was describing the pizza options — cheese, vegie, meat, Handsome Guy had replied, "Meat" turned looked up/down at Homegirl’s bodacious body and pointedly said, "Cause I like meat".

He’s a chameleon. Approaches me like a respectful man trying to date me, approaches her like a down and dirty sleezy scummy guy wanting to jump her bones.

Cursing him out in public seems to have worked. Got his feelings hurt and embarrassed, humiliated, publicly put in his place by a female, so he dare not show his face on Pizza Tuesday again, and she says he doesn’t even speak to her now when seeing her out and about.

As for me, now that I know he’s a chameleon — takes on different personas dependent on who and what is before him, even though he never had a snowball's chance in hell with me, I'm disgusted by the way he approached and talked to Homegirl.

You just do not talk to women that way so, if and when I see him out/about, I’m gonna take off in the opposite direction. I do not want to hear anything he has to say.

Returning to my unit, I found the power back on and an email from the power company with no explanation for the outage other than "analyzing problem".

Judging by news I just heard on TV, I’m going to need a new cup — "I Love When I Wake Up and No. 45 is Liable for SA and Defamation".

What a day this has been, as I also see the DOJ is after Santos. Next up is Clarence Thomas.

Who’s On First?

Certainly, no one around here can figure it out.

As residents continued to move cars around to be out the way of scheduled paving work, but having seen no crew since they left on Wednesday, cars stopped moving because why? What was the point of continuing to do so when nothing was happening according to plan.

Was the crew fired?

Did they quit?

Who’s on first?

We have no idea.

I’m beginning to think management saw what Shadow saw when he pronounced what little work was done as lousy, another cheapie that would last maybe two years and got rid of them before they made matters worse, but who knows.

At any rate, tired of the nonsense, I picked up the car after this morning’s workout, after which I took it to the coin wash, went grocery shopping, returned the car to it’s normal parking spot.

Trainer, amused by my Michonne style preparedness for walking that no man's land stretch of road to the storage place, taped me.

My luck … now that I’ve taken the car out of storage, the crew will probably magically reappear.

As I was leaving Friday’s workout, Trainer was complaining about his culture being just as oppressed as mine, but my culture gets a whole entire Black History Month while his culture gets only one day — Cinco de Mayo.

LOL, but he’s got a point.

Had he gone to the market that day, as did I after working out, he probably wouldn’t have been happy with the market having a worker dress up as an avocado that day.

A bit disrespectful to Trainer’s culture, but cute.

I don’t recall the market doing anything for cultural holidays before, so this avocado must be a clumsy marketing campaign to start doing so. However, if whoever thought of the avocado thinks it cute to showcase a chicken or watermelon costume next year, heads are gonna roll.

There was also this guy, previously seen at the market, who had a lot of truth to say without mouthing a word.

Pivot! Pivot!

Today is Cinco De Mayo and, btw, have you noticed we've had a lot of special days this week? First there was May Day, then Star Wars Day, now Cinco de Mayo.

This being a regular workout day and not a Bingo Friday, my plan for the day was, inasmuch as the car cube storage is half the distance walking from the Pain Cave than from the complex to, after this morning's workout, pick up the car, drive it back to its regular parking spot.

That plan changed when the Monthly Calendar attached to our doors indicated — just like Will Jay had commented "Expect this one-week project to take 10 days".

Project won’t be completed until end of day next Wednesday.

Pivot!

The new plan is to pick up next Friday. That is, if the project isn't pushed further off schedule because, looking at what little progress has been made because of the wet weather, the so few hours the crew puts in when the weather is dry and how much more needs to be done, I may have to pivot beyond next Friday.

I can’t tell you how many residents have caught me outside and asked, "Which side are we supposed to park today?"

"I don’t know" is my response, because I truly don’t know and try not to think about it because it makes my head hurt. I’m just waiting for it to be over.

I see Talker’s car is back on the premise and moving around.

She’d been gone for a few days.

If you will recall, on the day we were told not to park on the property, Talker said she was going visiting. It was a long visit, as she drove all the way to San Diego, spent a few days with the Little Stalker.

Didn’t bring her back with her though, but I did have a fright, went "Oh No!" when, out walking, I off in the distance saw a child coming from that area, relaxing when I realized it was a little boy — the grandson of the resident living next door to our Karen character.

It’s looking like Talker's clinging to Childhood Friend is not coming to pass. I don’t see the two of them out and about together and, when Talker showed up to last week’s bingo alone, I asked, "Where’s your friend?". Her response was kind of evasive ..... an "Oh, you know" and that was that.

I guess Childhood Friend has her own life — places to be, things to do or maybe it was like Debra of She Who Seeks commented (when I mentioned the development of  Talker spotting a new resident moving in who happened to be her Childhood Friend, and how this development was causing her to rethink moving to San Diego) that "Just because someone was a childhood friend doesn't mean you'll still get along or have a lot in common as adults. There's a lot of water under the bridge between then and now".

At any rate, Talker is walking around looking a bit sad, Next Door Neighbor is walking around looking as though she's mad at the world — which can't be healthy, and Painted Rock Lady is looking better. She’s got her color back, is once again out and about (on a walker) with her dogs.

PRL doesn’t have a car, though she did have an assigned parking spot directly in front of her unit, which was utilized by her gentlemen callers — an ex-husband with whom she's on friendly terms, and a side piece she says she's known for ages.

I say "did have" because management has dispensed with assigned parking. The new system, announced along with the paving project, is that you either pay for a carport, a garage, or hassle for parking in one of the free open parking spots.

Suffice it to say, PRL is not happy about this.

Looks like the new resident — the guy living in the bad energy unit, wanting not to worry about moving his car every day until this project is completed, also took off for a few days. I can tell he’s not just camping out in his unit, while his car is elsewhere, because the notice management posted to our doors a few days ago is still on his door.

That's all I've got on my very interesting neighbors as we go into the weekend.

This weekend is the Big Coronation. I’m taking a hard pass on that and will instead continue to binge watch the Sci Fi Cult Classic Fringe. (Mistress Maddie: You posted that you were watching a Sci Fi Cult Classic, which is why I guessed Fringe).

Fringe is a series about Parallel Universes, Shapeshifters, Watchers/Observers who travel to our world in the past to observe how we screwed up and led to their creation in the future.

The series has been running 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. Saturday and Sunday last three weekends — a season each weekend. All toll, there are 5 seasons, 20 episodes per season. So two more weekends, forty episodes to go and I can tear myself away from the tube and get some sleep.

Something in the Air?

Checking on the paving project this morning, Shadow tells me tow trucks did arrive but didn’t tow anyone out.

I walked around, checked the work (which Shadow thinks isn’t great and will last maybe two years), and see the trucks couldn’t tow anyone out because the cars in the way of the project were trapped, roped in place — they couldn’t get out, the tow trucks couldn’t get in.

Once the workers left for the day, Head Maintenance Guy removed the barriers.

Being barred from moving one’s car for a portion of the day is better than being towed, so win for the residents.

Next Door Neighbor is having a crisis of sort.

A former State Commissioner, coming to us from North Carolina eight years ago, she’s struggled with not having the glamorous lifestyle she's accustomed to.

I thought she was doing better, had accepted where life has taken her but evidently the initial worry over the parking situation has pushed her over the edge. She’s regressed to the earlier years, saying how much she "hates" it here — our "Lack of community … Neighbors don’t know each other, don’t communicate with each other, there’s no coming together".

This from the woman who never comes to bingo or attends our other activities. The woman who cursed Red Light out, told her to "Don’t f___ing call me anymore", because Red Light caught her at a time she didn't feel communicative.

What she means by "lack of community, not knowing our neighbors" is what she had before — in/out of each other's unit, coffee/cake/a drink/conversations in each others unit, inviting others over to play a card game she calls bid whist. She even suggested that I myself could help bring the community together by sharing my crafting skills, inviting others into MY unit for crafting sessions.

The f___ing nerves!

I’m assuming this is a ploy, a subtle form of trying to manipulate me into getting more involved with her, teaching her how to needlepoint/scrapbook. Sit with her and listen to her continuous yammering on about things I have no interest in.

My response was to suggest she come down to bingo, get involved, meet some of the many new people, put out flyers and start a card game group in the Community Room.

Of course, she talked around it when I put the onus on HER, but that was her pattern in the past. She’d make all kinds of suggestions as to what should be done and, when she was asked to get it started, she became silent.

I think NDN is morphing into a bitter old broad. Even more bitter than when she first moved in.

There must be something in the air because, not only did I get stuck listening to NDN’s complaints, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got pitched to again by Handsome Guy.

We don't have a lot of eye candy around here, so I do like seeing Handsome Guy around now and then. I sometimes even enjoy talking to him, and our conversation started off lite enough with him commenting on management’s handling of the paving project, how "Lazy" Head Maintenance Guy is, that HMG is merely learning on the job. Then we got to discussing the passing of his former downstairs neighbor, The Seer.

He said he missed talking to her and how he felt Shadow did not treat her right, broke her heart, hastened her death. That she had started drinking and, in a drunken stupor fell and hurt herself.

The drinking was news to me, but I too had felt hooking up with Shadow had hastened The Seer’s death because of his bringing her down to his level and the mistreatment — not physical, but using her, his coldness, not caring as much as she did, dodging her at times.

Evidently Handsome Guy, like I, had seen the times Shadow hid on the property to smoke, get away from her and The Seer embarrassed herself by running around looking for him.

Somehow that conversation segued into why he and I should become an item.

"All men are not like him … I’m different (If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that one) … You’ve known me for seven years … Don’t you think it time …" yada yada yada yada yada.

Actually, I’ve seen him AROUND for seven years, but that doesn’t mean I KNOW him.

I think the Universe is testing me to make sure I’ve learned my lessons in how not to lose focus, be manipulated off the path, but the Universe need not worry. I won't say I can't be duped. It's just that I can't be duped by these two, NDN and Handsome Guy.

I didn't even acquiesce to Handsome Guy’s simple request, "At least give me your telephone number".

Rain, Monday, May Day Paving and the Goats

Seeing cars parked as normal, when I went to bed last night, I set the alarm for an early morning wakeup call to watch what I expected to be the spectacle of cars being towed in mass.

From my vantage point this morning, I not only could see cars parked in their regular spots, but laughed when I saw rain — thinking the rain would interfere with Day 1 of the paving project.

Laugh was on me because, by the time I’d showered and dressed, that landscape had changed — workers had arrived and began putting in what I later learned were speed bumps regardless of the rain; cars had moved, some were in the process of doing so.

Walking to this morning’s workout in the rain wasn’t fun for me but, on the way, I did see that four of our residents had managed parking along the curb next to the auto parts store. A fifth tried to fit in at the tail end, but there wasn’t enough curb remaining.

Next Door Neighbor managed to rent a garage here on the property, the rear of 7-Eleven held a few cars, and the market lot got the load.

I doubt the market people even know where all the cars came from, and I had a feeling that, end of today, folks would sneak their cars back onto the premises.

It didn’t take that long.

The paving crew left at noon, whereupon Head Maintenance Guy retrieved his car and parked it in its usual spot.

When Red Light questioned this, Assistant Maintenance Guy told her it was okay for others to park.

All in all, the day did not turn into the disaster I was expecting. Everyone seemed to manage one way or another.

I did not see any tows and Shadow, who sits outside the gate in his walker all day, watching the comings/goings, assured me no cars were towed today.

Though I didn’t enjoy walking to the Pain Cave in the rain, the plants I started — and are thus far surviving in the heat on the patio, enjoyed it.

Bottom layer are the wildflowers Activity Director showed me how to start, and poor now dead Audrey.

Top are the vegetables I started — Radish, Hot Pepper, Tomato but, with no identifying stick, I won’t know which is which until vegetables appear.

As you can see, I added an Adirondack side table to match the chair — both of which I assembled all by myself.

I won’t say I have a Green Thumb because I haven’t a clue as to what I’m doing. I just planted the seeds in dirt, give them a little water now and then, and the rest is just happening. Whereas Upstairs Lady tells me none of her plants have sprouted, she got sick of waiting for something to happen and tossed them out.

So maybe it’s attitude, our differing energies — mine patient, calm, letting nature take its course, making the difference.

As for the goats — if you will recall, I'd commented in the videos I posted a few days ago that the goats on the mountain being utilized as lawnmowers seemed very close to the roadway. In fact, there was just a simple chain link fence, recently installed to keep them in, between the goats and the road.

Well, the goats got out.

Twin 2 was fortunate enough to be on that stretch of road at the right time, saw the herd had gotten out, blocked both sides of the road and, as the goatherder and his dog corralled them back in, one was being defiant.

The Great Bingo Seating War

It’s Bingo Friday which meant, in order to beat Hell on Wheels (formerly Wheelchair Lady — Thanks Paranormal John for this moniker) from taking my preferred seating spot, I did my grocery shopping before working out, rather than after, so I could head straight back to the Community Room, hopefully beat her to the seat.

I did.

Topic on everyone’s tongue was management’s handling of the paving project.

An update was posted to our doors yesterday afternoon. The project is to take 7 days.

Obviously, a 7 day hotel stay is out of the question for me, but it does appear the complaints have had an impact as now the plan is "Day 1: No vehicle will be allowed in the property".

The other days of the project look to be helter-skelter, with sections open for parking, like last time, except not exactly like last time.

Instead of having to move my car once, as work progressed from one side of the complex to the other last time, this plan looks more like a combination of musical chairs and merry-go-round for five days.

Residents will be required to find parking based on the work to be done — "Repairs: 1. Parking lot will be closed; 2. South end parking lot closed; 3. North end parking lot closed Sealing and Striping: 8. Parking lot closed by buildings J, H, G, F, E, D; 9. Parking lot closed by buildings J, K, L, N, O, Leasing Office; 10. Parking lot closed by buildings A, B, C, D, Leasing Office".

Suffice it to say, us residents are confused.

Heading to bingo I asked one resident, that has two cars, what he was going to do.

"I don’t know. They didn’t tell me my spot to park. I got this sheet that says 1, but I don’t know where that is".

Some of us are way more confused than others.

Then, running into Talker, I asked what her plans are for her car.

"We can’t park here at all on Monday?" she asked sounding incredulous.

Duh!

When I affirmed we can’t park here, she said, "I’ll get up early and go visiting".

She didn’t seem to get that she can’t go visiting, then return later in the day. That the plan is no vehicles allowed back in until the following day.

Conversations in the Community Room didn't go much better.

The Baker tried to get those confused to understand that Monday is May 1 and they cannot park on the premises. Whereupon, Hell on Wheels got argumentative, said "NO! It's Wednesday. May 1 is Wednesday. No parking on Wednesday" and kept overtalking those who were telling her she was wrong.

I chimed in with "Let’s just play bingo and leave her to subject herself to getting her vehicle towed" — even though I realized she shouldn't be talking because she’s in a wheelchair, supposedly can’t walk, drive, doesn’t even have a car.

It’s all too much for me. I’m sure some of us seniors (probably me) are going to get confused and end up with our cars towed.

I wasn’t able to get a good night’s sleep last evening. Woke up at 1:50 a.m. thinking about a hotel nearby for Sunday night, return Tuesday morning and hassling for parking the next five days.

Sleepless and needing to firm up a plan of my own, I got online but, instead of looking for a hotel, I researched places to store cars.

Found a few private garages in rundown back yards that looked dirty, sketchy and not close enough for me to walk back/forth.

Then I ran across a facility that stores vehicles @ $360.50 by the month.

The Universe was looking out for me because the facility is around the corner from the Pain Cave, a few blocks down, in an area that’s safe enough to walk back/forth to in daylight hours, so long as you keep your wits about you and pepper spray handy.

After bingo, I drove down to check it out and immediately signed up.

The facility is gated, access is by use of a code. The car pod is clean and roomy.

I signed up for a month and was given a key lock for the pod.

Seems like a good safe place and all to store the car for 7 days, but doesn’t mean much considering the wily criminals we have operating these days, but I’ve got inurance and will take my chances.

I locked the car up then and there, hiked back to the complex feeling like Walking Dead's Michonne, ready for battle, with a taser in one pocket, pepper spray in the other, and carrying that walking stick with the weapon tip.

Decisions Decisions

It was in September 2019 when management notified us of asphalt repairs and resurfacing of the parking areas. We were given a map and detailed information as to which quads would have to move their cars as work proceeded.

And so it went that we’d move our cars around the property, out of the way, as section by section the work proceeded and dared not move our car that day for fear of not finding a place to park later.

It was kind of a hassle, but doable.

Management is very concerned with how the outside of the property looks. They don’t give a care about repairs that need to be done inside the units — as one resident recently said to me, "It takes an arm and a leg to get something fixed"; to which I added "And when they do fix something, Bozo (head maintenance guy) makes it worse rather than better".

It's because they're cheap. Have instructions from Corporate to keep maintenance costs down.

So it was that, after the paving project was completed, even Stevie Wonder could have seen the job was shoddy — due to cheap labor, cheap materials no doubt.

Now here we are barely four years later and management, being obsessed with outward appearances, has notified us of yet another round of resurfacing and asphalt repairs.

I'm no expert, but I'm guessing it shouldn't look this bad from wear so soon.

So, anyway, going cheap on the first job is costing them double, but the problem is ... this time we’ve been told "During this period, you will not be able to park your vehicle on the property".

The plan is for them to take a few days in May, repair/resurface the entire parking areas and "We’re sorry for the inconvenience, but please make the necessary arrangements to be prepared since you will not be able to park your vehicle inside the premises".

Thing is … there is no street parking in this area and no parking lots.

There’s talk about leaving cars parked on the corner market parking lot.

As many cars as there are on this complex, I think market management would notice a sudden influx of cars and balk at it. Not to mention, cars would be subject to theft and vandalism at that location.

Market shoppers, even some of the employees, have had their cars broken into during broad light. So, I can’t image how cars left day and night for two/three days would fare.

There's talk about parking on the market lot then sleeping in the car to protect it. Which is still no guarantee of preventing theft, vandalism, and adds possible harm to self into the mix.

Other options I’m hearing folks talking about are leaving their cars on the complex, in the way of the paving project, knowing management will have towed away. They feel it safer to let the car sit in a tow yard two/three days, go through the expense of towing fees to get their car back.

Next Door Neighbor is thinking of turning her car into the dealer for service, leaving it there until she can park on the complex again.

That’s not a bad idea. My jeep is up for service, and I would feel okay about not picking it up right away; but the dealer is a long way away from here. How do I get home after dropping it off for service?

I don’t know how to Uber.

I suppose I could learn how to utilize Uber, but then I abhor having to depend on other people, and Uber would require me to depend on someone other than myself to get me to where I need to go. That would be from the dealer back to the complex after I drop the car off for servicing then, two/three days later, from the complex back to the dealer.

I’m thinking my best option is to move out for a few days — go to a hotel until the paving project is completed.

A hotel along the Hospitality Lane Strip — a city or so over, would not be too expensive. I wouldn't have to worry about where to safely park the car, and that area is close enough that I could drive back/forth to keep my workout schedule. Downside is there's nothing really to do in that area but eat and drink and I can do neither.

So, unless management changes their minds about kicking us to the curb and decide to do sections again, my plan is to book a hotel in Long Beach where I can go sightseeing, walk the beach path, spend time with Twin 1 (if she's in town and not travelling on her feed the homeless thing), stop by granddaughter's place and play with the Great Grandson.

Booking in Long Beach is way more expensive than booking nearby and, of course, it would interfere with my workout schedule, but at least I’d have fun things to do, so that may be my best bet.

After all the complaints that have been lodged, hopefully management will give us a break and go back to working in sections.

I doubt it because, once again, I think this action is cheap related — paying for two/three days of a crew working, rather than the four/five it previously took.

At any rate, I hope the next notice — the one telling us to get out, gives sufficient time for me to pull out my luggage, pack a few hotel meals, get out of dodge.

Then there's the fact Management often prepares for things to happen on date specific around here — like an inspection, THEN for one reason or another it doesn't happen, the date gets changed.

Consequently, worst case scenario, even if I do prepare for a hotel, hit the road night before given morning, return in three/four days, there's a possibility the paving job did not begin that next morning, the dates changed and I've returned in the middle of the project, still can't get back on the lot.

What to do, what to do? How to circument this madness?