Landlord lamenting

July 30, 2013

Landlord has no cahoonas. He snuck through the gate, late in the evening, meandered around the overgrown yard, too obviously peeking in my room, to see me, standing at the end of my bed, chatting on the cell phone, then pulled his magical disappearing act. Gone, in a poof of hot air. Wow. Guts. My limited patience has me wondering if he is of integrity. Is he even consistent about paying the mortgage with the substantial monthly rental income. Skirts around the property, like a little girl with a secret. Hm. Needs to work on his conflict resolution skills. Doesn’t respond to texts, phone calls, voice mails or mental telepathic messages.

Picked up enough garbage, on my stroll with Ty, to fill the giant trash can in the back yard. Fortunately it has wheels, though one is flattened due to the weekly burden, so I won’t contract a hernia, while hauling it to the curb on garbage day. Down to one guy, manning the rubbish truck these days. At least they don’t have to run alongside and heave it up, by hand, wrecking their shoulders and sloshing trash all over their spiffy florescent uniforms, as in Brasil. The waste management employees are young, viral men, until they are not. Wish I could convince the upstairs neighbors to stop tossing recyclables in with the refuse. Too nasty a job for me to pick through their smelly black bags to sort out the useable plastics, metal and paper goods. Ish.

Finally, all of the inoperable vehicles (five in all) have been removed from the street, driveway and back parking area. Grandpa (?) was swearing like a deranged sailor, while bent over the hood of the various vehicles. One grandson, who will be attending a college I have never heard the likes of, in North Dakota, playing on the basketball team, was handing over unidentifiable tools and ineffectively supervising the repair job, while eating lunch out of his Styrofoam container. Denzel Washington handsome, relatively tall, polite and sloughy, he appeared responsible enough. The two of them, whom I had never set eyes on, prior to the auto repair shop opening in front of the house, were here for several days on end, adding to the noise level of the dubious trompers. I have not seen nor heard the little ones for days. I miss John John asking if Tyrus can come out and play in the back yard with her.