Double Trouble

Little Knock Knock and two of her uncles arrived yesterday, so it’s going to once again be a rough few days for our Karen character, because they’re probably here through the 4th of July — walking up/down the stairs taking Knock Knock to the pool, walking overhead in Talker’s unit.

I wasn’t caught off guard this time, knew she was coming when, checking FB to see if Red Light had posted photos of her birthday party yet (she hasn’t), I saw Talker had posted Knock Knock et al were on their way via the Metrolink Train.

I don’t know what time they actually arrived, but little Knock Knock couldn’t wait to hit the pool. I saw her headed that way at 7:30 p.m.

Hopefully, she’ll be more interested in the pool than knock knock knocking on my door.

For some time I’ve been thinking about blogging about having a second Knock Knock, but wasn’t certain that I was imagining something that was not there.

The lady who lives in the downstairs unit beneath Next Door Neighbor has lived here some 8/9 years and during that time, various relatives lived with her, but mainly and consistently living there has been her loser son.

Late 20’s early 30’s, I don’t think he works, but sense he earns money through devious means while the mom retired, got bored, started a night job as security for a delivery service.

There’s been no problems out of the son, he seems nice enough, has sometimes helped Next Door Neighbor bring groceries up the stairs, and we speak when passing.

However, it was some time last year when I began to feel the son was watching me. That it was no coincidence that he would be sitting in his car at the end of the walkway on Monday, Wednesday and Friday about the time I’d leave for the Pain Cave, car backed into the space, so he could face the walkway, probably smoking funny stuff, watching me leave.

I’d always pretend I didn’t see him, try to tell myself I was imagining his sitting there coinciding with my schedule as purely coincidental, even when he had the headlights on in an attempt to draw attention to himself, let me know he was there.

THEN, last week, as I opened the door to head for the Pain Cave, there sat the enormous box the new exercise equipment arrived in.

”I can’t deal with this heavy thing right now”, I said to myself, left it where it was, headed out.

Neighbor’s son (let’s call him Compton, because he sometimes wears a cap with that logo) must have been in their unit watching and, knowing my schedule, waited for my return, because he came out, asked if the box was mine, did I need help getting it inside.

The box was so big that I thought I was going to have to use a box cutter, cut the box up in pieces on the landing, remove the insides piece by piece. So, I absolutely did need help and was grateful for the offer, even though I thought it weird he was watching/waiting for my return.

He lifted the box like it was nothing, placed it in the hallway.

I thanked him for the assist and, on the way out, he turned and asked "What is your name?".

Hmmmmmm?

His mom knows my name, but I told him and that was that except, I felt uneasy that night. So uneasy, that I made certain the burglar bars were in place on the patio window, the front door, and my self-defense tools were readily available next to the bed that night.

When I told Trainer about neighbor’s son — the sitting in the car watching, waiting/watching for my return to ask if I needed help, then bringing the box inside, Trainer immediately said, "I think you made a mistake".

Hmmmmmm?

That’s pretty telling that Trainer felt that way, especially after I’d had that uneasy feeling.

At any rate, I’ve not seen Compton since — not in the car, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been watching from inside his mom’s unit.

Then, this morning, heading out to drop off the trash, check mail, there was a note attached to my door. It was from Compton ……… "HEY COULD YOU GIVE ME A CALL/TEXT!!!!" and his number.

NO, I can’t/won’t.

Whatever he wants a call/text for, thereby have access to my telephone number, I want no parts of it.

If he’s looking for a sugar momma, he already has one ……… his mom.

If he’s looking for anything else ……… Dream On.

Hopefully, my not complying with his request will put an end to his watching — I don't need another Knock Knock, and whatever else it is he had/has in mind.

Three-Day Weekend

No workout this morning. Trainer is coaching his fighting team at an out-of-town competition, asked if I could change my workout to yesterday, Thursday.

Of course I said sure, no problem, even though it meant I had to go beast mode — back-to-back workouts ……… Wednesday and then yesterday Thursday, the benefit being a three-day weekend (Fri, Sat, Sun).

I used this extra day to head out, donate the old crock pot and air fryer to the Salvation Army Store.

I’ve never shopped Salvation Army before, always donated but needed wanted a pair of distressed denim shorts for the Summer.

What got me to wanting was running across a pair that captured my fancy at the mall a few weeks ago, when I wasn't even looking or thinking about shorts.

Madden NYC $65.00

Unwilling to pay the $65 price tag, I thought I’d check inside Salvation Army when I got around to donating those appliances, look for an old pair of jeans that I could rip/shred/cut into a facsimile of those above.

Today was that day.

Inside the Salvation Army Store was very well organized. So well organized that I walked right up on a pair of distressed denim shorts — no need to destroy a pair of jeans, and was in/out in less than 10 minutes with my $3.50 purchase.

The shorts were a little loose in the caboose, so I was going to take them in. Deciding that was too much work, I remembered how, back in the day the old folks would shrink to fit jeans by boiling. So, I boiled the shorts, then put in a hot dryer to solidify a better fit.

$3.50

Not exactly like the Madden shorts, but cute and would cost just as much as the Maddens, if not more, new, in the mall, distressed to look old.

Pretty risqué for an 80-year-old lady you might think.

I always wear leggings, no reason; but I still have nice looking legs, can get away with this.

As for what’s going on in the complex ……… nothing insofar as I know. Except, TinTin has decorated her window with more stuff.

Before

Now

What is she hiding?

There’s got to be a logical explanation for covering the window in aluminum foil, cardboard, some sort of green fabric and a stick to keep the window from being opened from the outside.

I’ve seen TinTin out and about, we say good morning to each other and she doesn’t look cra cra. But you never know.

Red Light had a birthday party at her new place on Wednesday, called to invite me.

I used my gut issues as an excuse for saying thanks but no thanks, that I wouldn’t be able to eat or drink anything.

It's nice of her to want to continue contact, but nope.

Talker went to the party. I know this because Red Light told me Talker was coming.

She didn’t name any of the other attendees, like the Baker and Homegirl.

Red Light is a prolific Facebooker, so I thought I’d see how the party went, who was in attendance, on FB but nooo. Oddly enough, she hasn’t posted a thing.

However, there was something interesting on FB.

The responses were exactly as expected.

A bucket of dog 💩.

A spinal tap.

Another kidney infection.

Being in a killer snake pit while trying to chew through my own jugular.

Cats shitting outside the litterbox. Their messes are usually easier to clean up.

I need the aliens from Independence Day movies to come like yesterday.

A tooth growing out my gooch.

Dementia man.

A poke in the eye with a sharp stick.

A root canal, my first broken bone, liver and onions, a can of olives, the 130 lbs I lost, my last job and my mother back in my life.

Water boarding.

Teeth pulled without numbing.

Hot poker in the eye.

Dull knife cutting my arm off.

Using sandpaper as toilet paper.

I’m dealing with a pretty painful bout of diverticulitis right now. I can’t walk, I’m audibly groaning and writhing in pain. This is still preferable to another Trump presidency.

A stick with branches up my peephole.

Sharpened bamboo chutes being jammed underneath my fingernails ...... and in my eyes and in my ears and up my nose ...... and having my skin peeled off while conscious.

Having my appendix removed with a rusty spoon.

Crawling through broken glass that is on fire above a pool of crocodiles.

An old and imperfect Joe Biden.

There were many more such replies, but you get the drift.

Old Habits Die Hard

Where has the time gone? We’re in the last week of June already, almost time to prepare for Halloween.

However, with no Residents’ Activity Committee — because Red Light moved away, The Baker recovering from knee surgery, no one else willing to step up and assume the responsibility of bingo and events, not to mention we can’t count on management to arrange a Costume Party, I’ll probably not be needing a cosplay outfit this year.

Registration is open for the Mission Inn 5K, but I’m not sure I should register. I may have aged out of that event — unable to handle the hills and mountains this year.

Trainer says I need more cardio outside of the Pain Cave.

Tell me something I don’t already know was my response, but I can’t motivate myself to walk ……… not around the complex, the neighborhood, the mall, anywhere outside, because outside is too peopley.

The Walking Club motivated me for a minute but, when Activity Director didn’t show up that last time, my motivation went back to sleep.

Trainer suggested walking up and down the stairs leading to my unit as good training for the 5K hills/mountains.

Not a bad idea, it’s only 18 steps, but "It’s outside where the people are" whined I and came up with a way to train inside where the A/C has the room nice and cold and there are no people ……… new equipment.

Cardio Climber Elliptical Trainer

When I was in the working world, I used my lunch hour and after work to train on the elliptical in the agency's gym, could do an entire hour no sweat.

Now I can barely eek out 2 minutes but, if I keep at it and can build up the stamina necessary to compete in the Mission Inn 5K, I’ll give that race another go.

If not, I'll close that chapter and be satisfied to be getting in extra cardio in the privacy of my own space.

As for old habits, I’m back on coffee. However, instead of a pot a day (4 cups), it’s one cup-a-day and drinking plenty of water during the day.

Speaking of water, when marketing, I generally pick up six 33.8 fl oz bottles of Smart Water @ 2 for $4.

Buying into the myth it would be more economical to purchase in bulk, I picked up a pack of six — going for $11.99, but then in my head calculated six bottles @ 2 for 4 — a total of $12.00 is less than a penny savings for having to go through the work of bringing down the dolly to load and get the pack upstairs, whereas I can easily climb the stairs with six, split up three in two separate bags.

A penny saved is a penny earned not worth the effort, so I put the pack back and purchased the usual six.

What a racket, but it gets worse ……… Smart water at the drug store is 2 for $7 and 2 for $9 at Sprouts. I’ll have to check Costco next time in the area to see if they offer a better price — single bottles and bulk.

I’m not the only one for whom old habits are dying hard. Talker tells me her downstairs neighbor, the Karen character, is at it again.

No surprise, because you might recall I’d speculated Karen would nut up over Talker having my little Knock Knock and her entire family going up/down the stairs, heading to the pool, walking overhead on that weekend I’d blogged about their being here in force.

Sure enough, Karen accosted Talker, but not about the group, her beef was that the little Knock Knock had awakened her at 1 or 2 a.m. by supposedly running back and forth across the room.

Talker said she told Karen that was ridiculous because little Knock Knock and she had gone to bed at 9:30 p.m. on the night in question. Told Karen "You’re hearing things and I’m not going to go through what you put me through before", that she’ll get management and Corporate involved again and "We’ll see how that works out". Whereupon Karen had nothing else to say and walked away, because she's on the short list with management and doesn't want Corporate to have to talk to her again about complaining/harassment.

I’m proud of Talker, and told her it’s about time she took up for herself, rather than roll over, walk on eggshells, unable to enjoy her place in an effort to continuously try to please Karen.

Sunday Sermon

Full Quad

Those box cars are getting popular out here because, on the freeway, headed out to pick up the new Instant Pot yesterday, I spied another one, this one recklessly speeding by me.

If I ever see one not in motion — parked on the streets or in a shopping mall lot, I’m going to ask the owner if I can see the inside.

On the other hand, that might not be a good idea. The owner might be a psycho who, when I bend over to look inside, push me all the way in, take off and make me a missing person.

At any rate, the Instant Pot Duo was hella heavy but, with the help of training on 50 pounds, I managed to get the box into the car.

Once back at the complex, I had to go upstairs, get the stair climbing dolly and cords to strap the box to the dolly and, just as I went downstairs to retrieve the box, a huge moving van parked at the end of the walkway. There was also a woman sitting in a car with a County of San Bernardino insignia, that looked like she was monitoring furnishings sealed in plastic coming in.

I've never seen the County do that before. Whoever is being moved in must be a special case to be getting such royal treatment, thought I.

I’d seen Head Maintenance Guy earlier in the day. He’s said the unit had been rented, that someone from the outside was coming in, but he didn’t say it was to happen that very day.

It was just a few days ago that the maintenance guys began going in to cursory clean and prep for a new tenant. Since then, there's been no painting, no new carpeting, so that answers the question of when does management paint and bring in new carpet after someone moves out.

What is …… when they damn well want to.

Since I’ve seen no one looking at the unit, I’m now believing the rumor to be true that residents moving in are no longer allowed to view the unit first.

Desperate people do desperate things, and will put up with whatever to get a roof over their heads.

At any rate, the unit is rented, we once again are full up in the quad.

By the time I’d strapped the box to the dolly, made it back to the stairs, and was just about to drag it up those stairs, I looked over and saw a woman standing around, watching the movers.

"Are you my new neighbor?" asked I.

"Why yes, I am" said she.

I introduced myself, got her name, welcomed her and went about my business.

Not the testosterone we need in the quad, but first impression …… she seems okay but, inasmuch as she's being cared for by the County in such a special way, I'm on guard her okay looks might be deceiving and will not open the door if she knocks to borrow a cup of sugar.

Not young, not all that old, thin, tattoos on her arm, looks like a biker chick, a bartender in a biker bar type, and she's sure to provide blog fodder because, when I later glanced out the patio window to see how the move was going, I saw Dream Lover walking away from her unit.

OH NO! Does he know her?

Is she part of his harem and he's somewhat instrumental in getting her a unit here?

Or did he spot her moving in, saw she wasn't bad looking and took the opportunity to make his own move?

And what was he doing on this side of the property anyway, unless he was heading for the unit of his latest, the Boebert character, who lives on the back side of the unit the new neighbor is moving into?

That would be three women in the same building with some sort of connection to Dream Lover …… Boebert on the back, new neighbor on the front, our Karen character that chased after him on the side.

When I'd been talking to Head Maintenance Guy earlier, he said there had been 27 vacant units.

I see a lot of new faces, so all those Now Leasing signs plastered out front must have paid off in getting new tenants in.

HMG also said he’s leaving …… transferring to another Corporate-Owned property.

He told me which, but it went in one ear out the other, so I can’t research if it’s a newer property or not. I also didn’t ask why he’s transferring. It was all I could do just to maintain, keep a straight face, not let him see how happy it felt to know we were soon to be rid of him.

I feel sorry for the folks on the property he transfers to, because he’s a fake maintenance man, can’t fix sh!t, often makes the problem worse, and I am not alone in this assessment.

I kinda sorta unintentionally insulted him when I asked if his leaving meant his Assistant moves up to Head.

"Yes", said he.

"Good because he does great work" said I. Which statement was a bit of a slap in HMG’s face.

Completely unintentional. It just slipped out, but HMG is somewhat dense, so maybe he didn’t get the insult.

Now that the old Instant Pot is off the counter, and I no longer need the Ninja Air Fryer, because the new Instant Pot Duo is those two appliances in one, I’m left with a lot more counter space.

Before

After

I'd better hold onto the old appliances a week or so, before dropping off at Goodwill, just in case the Duo doesn't live up to expectations.

Early Bird

Out and about this morning, I caught the proverbial Early Bird.

Turns out, he really does catch the worms.

He caught quite a lot, which leads me to believe he’s feeding a family.