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 Knock Knock.

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.