These Are The People In My Neighborhood

These are the people in my neighborhood. These are the people that I meet when I’m walking down the street…they’re people that I meet each day!  Lucky me!

Ever since we left Texas my husband and I swore that we would avoid our neighbors other then the typical wave and head nod from time to time. Trust me things are simpler that way. We both recognize that I possess some sort of CRAZY magnet where every loony within a 10 to 20 mile radius gravitates towards me only to spew their psycho drama into my lap. I'm serious!  They follow me like a horde of zombies.  Our roomy, Buddy, does not quite understand the detrimental ramifications that a mere short conversation can have on ones future.

A good place to start would probably be the beginning, right?

When we moved to Oklahoma back in March, my next door neighbor introduced herself to me. For the sake of anonymity, we will call this neighbor “Holly”. Holly told me that she had a few dogs and a few roommates. It wasn’t hard to tell that many adults lived in the house. It always seemed like a used car lot out there.

The longer we lived in our house, the more other neighbors around us would slowly divulge bits and pieces of information to us about our immediate neighbors. We were told that Holly at one time lived in the house with her husband and two children. After the divorce, the husband moved back to where ever it is he was from and the children went with him. Now I know it isn’t unheard of but it is always unusual to me when a father gets full custody of the children. Most judges, unless there is a specific reason, usually award custody to the mother. I don’t believe it to be necessarily fair. I’m just stating my take on things.

Months pass. My husband and I would discuss the comings and goings that took place from the home. One time in particular, a lady pulled up and went inside. I heard a little voice say, “Hi.” When I glanced over to the direction of the greeting, I saw a little girl no older than four in the front passenger seat with the window rolled down just steady waving to me. A few minutes later, mom came back out, hopped in the car and drove off. This seemed to be a common occurrence over there. Seemed like a “drive-thru” to me.

Within the past few weeks, I noticed that I hadn’t heard the dogs in awhile and then it dawned on me that I hadn’t seen anyone around the house either. One night while Buddy and I were having a cigarette in the backyard we heard people talking on the other side of the fence. Buddy, being the sort of friendly goob that he is, went to the fence `a la Wilson from the show Home Improvement and struck up a conversation with a fellow we will call “Chance”. Apparently, Chance is the maintenance man for the house. He told Buddy that Holly and friends basically just packed up their shit and left. They seriously must have done it in the middle of the night. It’s not like I ever saw a moving van.

After Wilson, err-- I mean Buddy, ended his fence chat we go back inside and he proceeds to tell me about Chance’s rotting teeth which only added to my suspicion of the house next door being a sort of drug haven.

A few days later, KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! There’s a man at the door thrusting a badge in my face asking questions about some guy named “Holt” that apparently lived next door. I had never met this Holt person and I wasn’t about to offer up my speculation to a special agent for the simple fact that it was just that…ONLY speculation. That evening I told Buddy about my visitor and he jumped on the first chance he got to have another fence convo with Mr. Rotten Teeth.

Another few days later and I saw a moving van in front of the house with new faces and Chance. Once again, Buddy chitty-chatted with the new neighbors, a man named “Ray” and a woman named “Tina”. Later he reveals to me that they too have a serious tooth decay problem.

Today I met Tina for myself and a friend of hers. I must say the tooth issue both ladies seemed to suffer from was entirely noticeable from a distance. It’s both sad and horrible all at the same time. It was very distracting in that it’s hard not to take glances at thier rotting teeth as they speak.

Who the hell would want to put this shit in their bodies?!?!

Honestly, after first meeting Chance I wanted to believe maybe he just had dental issues but what is the likeliness of that many people at the same residence needing to see a dentist that bad?? I understand that other issues cause tooth decay but I cannot shake the thought of meth and/or crack users from my mind or the fact that I believe they are residing next to me. It scares me to think that all the coming and going could be the result of drug deals and what’s worse is the fear that if they are “cooking” next door it makes things even worse and extremely dangerous and deadly.



Worse still is the new family has a little girl. She must be about three and is just as cute as cute can be. I feel sad and afraid for her.

I have a bad, bad habit of jumping to conclusions. Just ask my husband. I really want to give these people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe…just maybe, they are recovering junkies and/or just bad dental hygiene habits. I hope so. I really do but trust me I will not be going out of my way to befriend them so that I can find out. Believe that!  

 

Would Jesus Like To Buy Some Popcorn?

Children are pretty interesting little creatures especially when they are your own. I’ve said before my son aspires to be a comedian and my daughter aspires to be a model as reflected by their day to day actions. Luckily, if those dreams happen to fall through they always have entrepreneurship to fall back on.

Currently, popcorn sales are underway for the Boy Scouts so my son is busting his ass trying to sell some overly-priced snack products. He called my husband’s grandfather and tried to convince him to purchase a $50 tin of chocolate covered crap. He did the same when he called my parents. He managed to get about $20 out of each of them.

My daughter felt the need to exercise her sales pitching skills as well so she got on the phone with my mom to tell her that I was selling stuff on eBay and she should definitely go there and bid on something…especially if it was something of hers. The agreement is whichever of their belongings sell they get to have the money. She loved selling Girl Scout cookies in the past but the thought of being able to keep the money for herself is all the more thrilling to her.

After that lovely conversation, my son asked if we were buying any popcorn. So I told the kids to pick something and braced myself for one or both of them to declare dibs on the $50 diabetic coma in a collector’s can. As I’ve said many times in other blog posts, every so often they do or say things that surprise you. This particular time was one of those times. My children agreed…let me back up here…they AGREED (!?!?!?) on the exorbitant cheese trio. They also asked if we could order a box of spicy microwave popcorn for their daddy’s first care package. How could I say no to their harmony and generosity? I mean, it seems so rare lately. Needless to say, it will cost a retarded $55 for approximately 40 ounces of popcorn.

Later, I took the boy to ask a few of our neighbors if they wanted to order anything to support the Boy Scouts. We ended up at Mrs. Sphere’s house. Mrs. Sphere is a very nice woman, extremely kind and intensely Christian. Anytime you go over there, you are always invited in and offered a glass of iced tea. Each time I go in I get stuck their at least an hour while she talks about her church and her favorite savior, Jesus, even though (or should I say more so since) I told her I was an agnostic on the cusp of atheism. I guess in a way I’m a sort of “project” for her. Boo! Thank goodness my boy had to go to his Boy Scout meeting. First rule of scouting, “Be prepared.” In this case, I knew I needed an exit strategy in place before we went there. Evacuation successful!

It really bugs me that nearly every person I come into contact with around here is nauseatingly nice but so blinded by their faith that they come across as illogical and unreasonable. I can’t deal with that. It burns me that people like Mrs. Sphere, while painfully sweet, feel the need to tell me about how great their god is every time I talk them. You are Christian. I get it, jeez! I’m not. We don’t need to discuss this topic every time we run into each other. Now shut the fuck up...please, ma'am. (You got to respect your elders.)

Here’s a thought. Does anyone else find it interesting that Christians, Mormons, and Jehovah’s Witnesses always seem to try to convert you? Ironically enough, they all think the other is wrong yet they believe in the same god. I’ve never been approached for conversion by a Muslim or a Jew. They must have a much more discriminating recruitment process. Another thought is Christians in particular talk about treating people the way you want to be treated. Well, if you don’t want me to try to alter your convictions than word from the wise, “Back off!!”

I try to teach my children tolerance for all people. Yep, tolerance is the key…that and a heaping helping of avoidance. In my opinion, religion itself is about as useless as expensive popcorn encased in a metal canister.  Maybe my son should hit Jesus up and see if he's in the market to purchase some popcorn.  What would Jesus do?  He would buy some popcorn.

This Is Only the Beginning

School will be starting up again soon and I couldn't be happier. Hooray for education! Now the kids will have other things to do besides take in large doses of Xbox and Nickelodeon. If I have to watch one more episode of i-Carly, I may just snap!

In other news...can someone please tell me at what age do boys stop being disgusting? My ten year old is heading an anti-soap campaign. I believe he may even have corporate sponsors. A few weeks ago I caught him in the bathroom with the shower running, standing at the sink splashing water on himself and that was AFTER I sent him back for coming out of bathroom smelling like deep fried bunghole. Today, he's on his third trip to the tub. He swears he washed his hair yet it still smells like hot ass. You know the sweaty kid smell I'm talking about, right? It's the odor that sort of smells like a wet dog. Today between the second and third time he went into the bathroom, my husband and I chased him around the backyard. I threatened to strip him down and scrub him with a brilo pad if he didn't get back in the tub and bathe properly! Our neighbors must love us.

I'm going to keep this short. It's been years since I've blogged, at least two. I have every intention of getting back in the habit so, please, excuse my rustiness.