I've lived in Oakland on Opal for the last 13 years, which is ultimately a very special street- it houses an assortment of characters including Judy the crazy cat lady w/30+ cats, a lumberyard, old folks home, blind center, and da house of sudz. It's pretty wonderful and a voluminously less than ideal place to have raised my two daughters... but larger than life. Free radio used to be across the street and the 40 st. Punk warehouse was next door for longer than I could remember until the housing bubble and condos pushed the cool kids out. Now all that's left resembles the island of misfit toys.
The only member of the old "neighborhood watch" is the blind center. Not kidding.
So - the same passive-aggressive pissant neighbor has been writing notes and leaving them on my various cars for something like 10 fucking years. He is always upset with parking. Too close to another car, too far away, in front of his house, it's endless really. He leaves notes on every ones cars, although I have become a favorite since I intentionally park in front of the duplex he rents.
I provoke him. It's like an impulse control problem.
It's just that he is such an asshole I would rather walk 30 feet to my house knowing that he is brewing inside bc he can't park right in front of his cave behind Judy's old house.
One time he came to my garage sale and I enjoyed telling him that each thing he wanted was not actually for sale. I was VERY friendly- but firm. He thought that I didn't know he was the angry parking note guy at that time. He only writes notes late at night.
I should ignore his notes and ignore him all together. Love him as a fellow human being struggling to make his way in a chaotic, confusing and sometimes cruel world. But holy shit, it's like turrets, I can't resist it. He is way too young to be such a pissant, he should focus on other things. He did give me a break from the notes when I was fighting cancer and looked like a bald war victim, so he has a soul. But now he continues to leave notes. Short mean notes, always about parking and cars.
Occasionally I write back.
Today I think I made a terrible tactical mistake, I addressed my reply to him personally. Called him out by name. Called him a chickenshit and nasty and sad and a bad neighbor, asked him if is notes were bringing success.... Called the pissant out of the cave.
uh oh
Kind of like eating a second helping of cake, you know NOTHING good can come of it. My husband told me I should have taken the high road, or the passive aggressive road, but he knew I was not capable of resisting this challenge...which I'm not.
Problem is - even though every superhero needs a Nemesis - I now have a full pen-pal-on-the-back-of-junk-mail-under-windshield-wipers-on-the-fence-post war on my hands, I should have left well enough alone but I just couldn't resist.
We are on our fourth note round this week. It's almost exhausting
He bated me the fucker
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