Back to my Roots

It’s pretty clear that I’ve had very little to say over the better part of this year. Even though my muse/partner-in-crime, June B. Stewart, no longer walked the beat with me, I still thought I’d have things to say. Apparently not.

In addition to June’s absence, I guess I didn’t realize that there was simply nothing interesting happening in the Bubble.  Until….the tenants in Unit B (which shares a porch with my unit and another) moved out.  Swell, here we go again. Most importantly, it reminded me why I launched this blog.

I won’t bore you with the usual petty b.s. that happens when a neighboring condo unit turns over. But those of you who know a little something about me know that while I’m basically a laid back, easy going person, unwritten condo common courtesy parking infractions send me over the edge. It’s the Betty possession.

After three weeks of watching the new arrivals in Unit B blatantly disregard established parking courtesies, they continued to park in my second space, which admittedly is not occupied even close to 24/7.  But since each condo unit is entitled to two parking spaces at all times, I act like an unreasonable lunatic to ensure that the four to six total hours a day that I might need my second space, it’s available.

So, as Mr Unit B (whom we’ve officially nicknamed DB) and the four cars associated with him continued to park beyond the two spaces to which he was entitled, I dropped this “joke” parking citation on his windshield one morning.  He did not find it humorous. Come on, wouldn’t you laugh if someone hit you with it?  Especially the hummer violation.

If you didn't laugh when this was dropped on your windshield, then you are probably a jerk.

Have a great Thanksgiving holiday!

xo

Betty

Kevin Costner’s Cousin

A previous post briefly mentioned Bubble characters “Bucky & Blinky.”  This post will examine (primarily) Bucky.

I first met Bucky in early 2002. During our initial conversation, Bucky informed me that she was 35 years old (objectively, I would have pegged her at 50);  that she had a brain tumor, no healthcare insurance and, therefore, was going to die soon; that her husband (Blinky) was much older than her (at the time, I would have placed him about 60 years); and that she used to be a model (did I mention that Blinky is blind? Seriously, not a joke.) I should mention, too, that there’s an easy to figure reason she’s called Bucky (yes, cruel, I know…but I didn’t name her…or Blinky either.)

Over the next several years, we learned more. Although she has no visible means of support, she owns the condo they live in and regularly has home improvement jobs going on. They had the windows replaced (a $5,000+ job – I know because I had them replaced in my unit), hardwood floors installed, outdated bathrooms remodeled, and more.

Bucky used to make her husband go to the condo complex clubhouse to shower (she, herself, has wicked bad b.o.) On garbage days, Bucky and Blinky jump in the Buck-wagon and take a drive through the complex to pick through garbage that other residents have put out for collection. Their haul could include anything from soda and beer cans plucked from recycle bins (to redeem for the 5 cent deposit) to outdoor furniture that’s bad enough for someone to have placed out as trash to begin with.

After the dumpster dive cruise, she’d arrive home and haul the stuff into her condo. Inevitably, within a couple of months, many of those items would end up out at her curbside on trash collection days.  Or, during the condo’s annual October tag sale at the clubhouse, Bucky would be there offering her trash haul for sale at her table. (Although one time I had placed a broken hose reel out at the curb on garbage collection day. Bucky promptly snatched it up and placed it behind a bush beside her condo unit. It sat there for 3 years. She didn’t own a hose. Occasionally, I’d pull it out from behind the bush, just to let her know that I knew she took it. She’d re-hide it. Finally, last year she bought a hose, attempted to wrap it around my discarded hose reel, discovered it was broken, then put it out in front of her curb the next trash day.)

Yesterday, the non-poop-scooping-recycle-bitch neighbor moved out.

No where near 210 boxes fit in this

After she left, there were several items left at the curb (not on garbage day, a clear condo rule violation!)

See the bit of blue? That's the towel that sat rotting on their deck for a year and it's draped over the bike that Ricky Retardo never rode and also sat on the deck to rust for a year

This made Bucky’s day.

Inspecting the merchandise

Another source of income for home improvements.

Sold!

See the dog? Bucky rescued it (truly an admirable thing to do) a couple of years ago. She’s told us all that the dog only understands commands if spoken in a Native American language.

So, are you wondering if picking up crap like this could possibly fund basic living expenses, utilities AND five plus figure home improvements on an annual basis? Well, wonder no more.

Bucky once asked a dog walking neighbor if she happened to have noticed a stretch limo lost in the condo complex looking for her. Apparently the limo contained her cousin, Kevin Costner, and he’s the one who purchased the condo for her and funds her home improvement projects. If that’s the case, then why won’t Kevin fork over some cash for a dentist and, perhaps, a bottle of clairol haircolor? Or, more importantly, doctor and hospital expenses to take care of her brain tumor.

While we all laugh at her “delusions,” I can’t help but wonder if it’s true and she’s having the last laugh.

The Night Shift

Common consideration — not to mention condo rules and town law — requires that owners clean up after their dogs. In our condo, if one observes a violation, a quick letter to the condo association management identifyng the violator, date and time of observed violation will generate a fine for the offender. (Notice my repeated use of “observe.”)

Although all grass areas in the complex are considered to be common area, the layout does provide some patches of grass that really are trafficked only by the directly-adjacent resident. I have such an area right in front of my unit. During snow season, I keep patches of grass clear for my little dog with 3 inch legs otherwise she can’t go. I don’t mind if other residents in this building (there are four units per building) allow their dogs to “go” there but, for goodness sake, pick up after your dog.

One of the neighbors has been reported for non-scoop violations at least seven times. She’s also been reported at least two times for allowing her dog to run loose throughout the complex (not a particularly bright idea considering the fact that there’s a certain amount of vehicle traffic DUH!) I should also mention that this is the recycle bin bitch from a previous post in case you hadn’t figured it out already.

Anyway, over the past few weeks when I bring my dog out for her 6:00am relief, I’ve often found unscooped poop on “my” little patch of grass. I know it’s her dog because, at the risk of sounding a bit indelicate, it’s consistent with the size of her dog — the other dogs in this immediate area are much smaller and it’s not an area that someone walking down the road would detour in order to dump. I wake up early, therefore, I go to bed early. My dog’s last walk is usually between 8:45-10:30pm and then we are upstairs and the front part of the condo appears dark. I’m certain that the inconsiderate neighbor is using this opportunity to leave the poop because she knows I can’t definitively pin it on her with the required exact time for reporting.

So I’ve enlisted the services of a nightwatchman. He’s positioned in the upstairs spare bedroom/office window which looks down upon the patch of grass.

See him up there? My hope is that the non-scooper will see him and she’ll feel compelled to scoop and avoid a fine. The best part is, he works for free. He never leaves though. He keeps me company there in the home office throughout the day. However, each time I step out of the office and walk back in a few minutes later, I jump out of my skin, startled to see someone standing in the corner (he moves away from the window during the day.)  Care to meet him?

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Similar to Kevin’s use of Michael Jordan in the movie Home Alone, no?  I did put a shirt on him to cover the fire suit, because that kind of reduced his credibility. So, let’s see how it works. In the meantime, I won’t even tell you what I’ve been doing with the piles of crap that she’s been leaving on the grass. I think she’ll discover it later this spring though.