Smoked Meat
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Thursday, July 20, 2006

A Knock on the Door (pt. 4)

Another knock on the door. In the afternoon, about 10 days ago.

"Did you call the landlord?" Yolanda asked in an angry tone, as I opened the door. Unsure of what she was talking about, I replied that I had not. Things had been a little more quiet for the first week of July, and we hadn't heard much from our backyard neighbors. No kids, no interruptions. It was nice, but I was starting to wonder what was going on. Usually they were everywhere--riding bikes and playing up and down our shared drive, neighbors' lawns, and the sidewalk across the street.

She gave me a disgusted look. "You did too. You called my landlord and complained about the traffic going back to our house."

Now, Yolanda doesn't have a car, but she did get her share of visitors. And at odd hours of the night like 2 am, but I never considered it a big enough nuisance to make a stink about. We did share a drive after all. It was the constant doorbell-ringing and ungrateful attitude that bothered me. So I tried to explain to her again that no, I really did not call the landlord.

She wasn't buying it. "I talked to the landlord. He said it was you. And I can have whoever the **** I want back there." I could feel my blood pressure rising, but tried to stay calm. She started walking away, and added: "You must have called DHS too, complaining about my kids playing in the street at 1:00 in the morning. I can file harassment charges." This was getting to be a little too much. It's probably a good thing that someone called DHS, but yet again, it wasn't me. I followed after her, really growing angry that she would make a threat like that.

"I didn't call the landlord. I didn't call anyone. If I had a problem with you I would talk to you." I said, voice rising. This was true, not so much to the extent that I didn't have a problem with her (which I actually did now), but in that I would talk to her before calling her landlord. If he told her that I complained then the record needed to be set straight. I asked her for the landlord's number. She told me she didn't have it but would get it for me. Maybe she was realizing that I wasn't the one who complained.

Around suppertime I went back to her house to get the number. I also wanted to find out what Yolanda's problem with me was. I wanted to give her a chance to speak her mind, and to tell her that I only wanted to be a good neighbor. And I sure didn't need any trouble from her, whatever that might be. There was a pause before the door opened. One of the children answered the door. "Mom's at the store. What do you want?" I knew it was an excuse not to talk to me, so I told her I would return later. I tried again in a couple hours. No one came to the door, even though I could hear people inside as I approached.

I went back the next evening and the house appeared to be empty. Apparently I wasn't going to get the landlord's number from Yolanda.

(to be continued…)

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Alan, Alan, Alan...

You are driving me crazy with this story.

Brian.

6:38 PM  
Blogger Alan said...

It's that bad, huh? :)

8:00 PM  
Blogger jenica said...

We missed you all last night. Did your washer get fixed?

Wow, hope the neighbor situation gets better...

Jenica

7:26 AM  
Blogger Alan said...

On the first trip (at lunchtime), we found out the pump motor was shot, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to get a replacement.

On the second trip (at 4:30), we found out the motor he had in stock wouldn't work on our 10-year-old washer.

On the third trip, he came with a used washer he sold us for a decent price. It will get us by. That was at 7:45, so we were bummed we couldn't make it over. Hope you had a great evening!

7:35 AM  
Blogger voni said...

Been coming back just to read this crazy story:) See you thurs.

10:45 AM  

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