Friday, June 12, 2015


My stupid neighbor, Mr. Neanderthal,  seems to be everywhere these days, and he's been screwing up my routine.  I'm all out of sorts, and it's his fault.

I guess that explanations are necessary.  I went to the grocery store, as is my usual Thursday routine.  I had a specific list for the coupons that I had clipped from Sunday's paper.  I was organized, as usual, and started in the produce aisle, when I saw the next door buffoon with one of his plastic lady friends giggling by the cantaloupes.  He had two held up against his chest and...oh, never mind.

She kinda looked like this

I tried to hide behind the apples, but he saw me, and introduced me to his brain-damaged friend  (like I could care less who he has been...with lately).   When she skipped away, I nearly laughed in his face.  What was she?  25?  She sounded like she had the brain of a mosquito.  Is this what single middle aged guys go for these days?  No brain, just body and energetic hormones?  Well, he pretty much said yes to that question.  Dumb ass.

At checkout,  I realized that I had forgotten my coupons at home, and the cloth bags in the van.  Somehow, ice cream and cookies made it into my cart, along with a Lindt bar.  Must have been my dopey neighbor.   He distracted and annoyed me.  When I am distracted and annoyed, I crave junk.  So, I decided to blame it on him.  Good plan.

I managed to make it out into the parking lot with an overflowing cart of plastic grocery bags filled with over priced items.  Doug  the "cart guy" was out there, who usually very nice about helping me load everything in my van.  Very helpful guy, and always seems to be around when I need an extra hand.  Always smiling.  He decided to scold me, pointing out that I should have used cloth bags because it was better for the environment.  Did I also mention that he could be a little annoying with all of his "tips and suggestions"?

I thanked him anyway, and waited for him to leave.  Unfortunately, he did not.  I thought that he would get the hint when I started the van.  He did not.  Instead,  he knocked on the driver's side window to get my attention. When I rolled down the window, he "helpfully" mentioned that he was "looking at my van before" and noticed that my inspection was overdue.  He was practically hanging inside the open window, which made me quite uncomfortable.  I was wondering why he had been checking out my van, and why wouldn't he get out of my face?  Suddenly he was too friendly--more like creepy.

Just when I started to consider running over Doug to make my escape, I heard a deep voice from the side of the van, behind me.  When I turned, I saw that it was the idiot next door and his brainless friend.  Guess I can't call him an idiot, since once he arrived, Doug pulled away from my window like he had gotten an electric shock, hitting his head on the way out.  He quickly said goodbye and got lost, gathering carts as he went.  Mark can be a pretty imposing figure, if you like neanderthals, and he did come in handy--for once. He's good for that, and fixing lawnmowers...I guess.  

I was grateful (and I almost said so) until he opened his mouth and started to talk, calling Doug a weirdo, and then I was compelled to defend Doug.  Why? I don't know.  I guess I just can't stomach agreeing with Mark.  I feel like I'm betraying myself, I guess.

Fast forward to when I pulled into the driveway.  "Barbie" and "Dumb Ass" were washing his truck.  Don't know how they got home that fast.  They must have pulled right up and started to play with the water.  They got water everywhere, and of course, once I got out of my van, I was sprayed.  Probably intentional.  I tried to ignore the two of them, and get into the house as soon as possible.  

Unfortunately, he saw me struggling with the ripping plastic bags and offered to help.  I said no, of course, but he didn't listen to me.  He called over plastic girl and the two of them played "good neighbor" until all the bags were in the kitchen.  Did I mention that they walked through my clean house with their sopping wet clothes?  When he started to go through my bags, noticing the cookies, ice cream and candy, he started to make comments that Derek should not eat all that crap (I never said that it was for Derek, did I?)  Nevertheless, I had just about enough, reached my daily limit of tolerance, and quickly ushered him out.

Guess I should be grateful?  Maybe...naaah!  Still can't stand him.

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