Labor Day? It’s Still Monday

It’s been dead as a doornail here on the complex, and I don’t think it merely seems so just because I’ve morphed into a recluse, and thus out of the loop, but is an actuality.

Nothing interesting even popping up on the window cam, except I did see Gandalf showing up earlier in the week, performing that "this far and no further" ritual of walking to the edge of the walkway by the stairs, looking to his left then returning to the unit. However, strangely, he showed up just that one time.

So, is he still living down there with his mom or not? Who knows for sure, but I surmise so.

His brother Compton is no longer parking on the property, so I guess Manager got what she wanted — him gone …… or thinks she got what she wanted because he’s still on camera heading to/from work, but it’s during hours when the office is closed, no management personnel around to know any different.

He must be parking/hiding his car nearby.

All in all, it appears Ms. Neighbor's two sons are on the downlow, keeping a low profile, staying away from prying eyes and out of the crosshairs of management.

With the resident known as Red Light having moved and no one willing to take over her self-motivated job of planning BBQs for us residents, it’s not going to look much like a holiday around here today, except for the absence of staff.

For me, it’s just another Monday anyway — a workout this morning and a grocery run after.

I did however manage to have a three-day weekend, because Trainer rescheduled me beastmode last week (back-to-back workouts Wednesday and Thursday), so he and his team could travel out-of-town Friday for a weekend Muay Thai fighting event.

Unmotivated, and the weather still too hot, I did not leave the unit, train for a 5K that might be coming up at the University. Instead, it was three days of needlepoint and prison break. In addition to which, a great deal of time was devoted to putting out fires, as I received notification sensitive data had made it to the Dark Web.

Back in May, when I returned from Pride Week in Long Beach, I received a fraud alert on my credit card, which alert necessitated cancelling the card. This latest breach seems to have stemmed from that incident, and I have a sense it was a bank employee, the one that assisted me in cancelled the card, who leaked/sold other even more sensitive data he collected during that conversation.

At any rate, all I could do this time was to put a lock on everything it was possible to lock, change passwords, and cross my fingers the scammers will find I'm not financially worth the effort.

It boggles my mind that there are people whose job it is to run phishing scams, find ways and means to defraud/take advantage of others.

If the scammers plan to use the information to file next year’s taxes in my name, reap the reward, they’re in for a surprise — find themselves liable for a bill to pay rather than a return, LOL.

Speaking of jobs, this Labor Day also marks the 14th year of my sliding the chute, or close enough as I officially retired on September 7.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again ……… Time flies when one is not having to deal, on a daily basis, with functionally insane employers, various forms of racism and abuse of authority.

Though the flashbacks and trauma lives on, I consider myself one of the lucky ones to have gotten out alive, as I once thought I’d be like the 60-year-old Wells Fargo employee who was recently found dead at her desk, four days after she’d last clocked in.

I fully expected to be a little old lady keeling over dying at my desk, but would have hoped my death would have been noticed before people were alerted by the smell, as was the case with this employee.

A worse fate would have been coworkers trying to get rid of me by taking me on a hike and leaving me behind, as was the case for the insurance underwriter on a work retreat, who also made the news this weekend — rescued after a night stuck on 14,230 foot Mt. Shavano during a freezing rainstorm after being left behind by his 14 coworkers.

If I understand the story correctly, those coworkers did not report him missing for 8 hours, which was after the guy miraculously survived the night, managed to get a cell signal and call for help his own darn self.

Just goes to show, though the struggle to retirement is real, and leaves one with lingering trauma, it's better than dying at one's desk or being downsized out by coworkers.

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 Knock Knock 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.