Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Bad Idea
(1)
I'm about 75% through beer 3 at the moment (sip). Been reading last week's blog entries. Fun. I continue to be astonished by the difference between reading those entries while sober, and while 'drunk' (thump above). I suppose that part of the reason is that I go into more detail as I read the links, and that the remaining part is that I am emotionally 'in the same place' as when I wrote it. (That's why I suggest that you read this blog after acquiring a slight booze buzz.)
I was so impressed with last week's encounter with the ACSD officer who returned 'my stuff' to me! It actually restored my faith in the ACSD, and so, as I stared down at the patio floor several days ago, I noticed not only the usual cigarette butts, but two matches as well. Matches?! That was a 'first.' Symbolic Escalation? I thought so. I called Kootch out to the patio as I collected the butts and the matches and put them into the small plastic baggie with the other butts collected over the last several months. Then we noticed 'them' on the patio above us.
I got their attention by telling them that we did not appreciate them dropping their cig butts on our patio, and showed them the baggie full of cig butts. One of them then engaged me in 'conversation' during which we expressed our mutual contempt for each other. Turned out they were 'brothers.' They admitted dropping the cig butts but also insisted that they 'used an ashtray.' I pushed the young bastards 'buttons' a little. A kind of 'meltdown' followed, as the 'spokesperson' began speaking to me in Polish (probably cursing). His voice rose. He seemed to be speaking to the entire neighborhood in a very loud voice. It was quite funny, and I laughed at him. Kootch and I went inside, but could still hear him. So I got my voice recorder and began recording his mindless ranting. I informed him that I was recording him. About that time a neighbor appeared on the grass below us and began trying to calm the situation down. I showed him the baggie of butts as I explained the cause of the problem. The neighbor seemed to sympathize with me as he attempted to calm the outraged orator down a bit. I thanked him for his friendly intervention. After about 5 minutes of recording the ranting from above I got bored and reentered the apartment and turned off the recorder. I had better things to do. But the mindless ranting continued, the neighbor meanwhile attempting to calm the LOUD bastard down. I decided that this was a good time to call the ACSD: violence might well result from this situation. I was not worried personally because I had a loaded .357 Magnum at my disposal, but I felt some concern for the neighbor. I should have dialed 911, but - like an idiot - I dialed the ACSD number taped to a kitchen cabinet door. Bad idea.
I'm about 75% through beer 3 at the moment (sip). Been reading last week's blog entries. Fun. I continue to be astonished by the difference between reading those entries while sober, and while 'drunk' (thump above). I suppose that part of the reason is that I go into more detail as I read the links, and that the remaining part is that I am emotionally 'in the same place' as when I wrote it. (That's why I suggest that you read this blog after acquiring a slight booze buzz.)
I was so impressed with last week's encounter with the ACSD officer who returned 'my stuff' to me! It actually restored my faith in the ACSD, and so, as I stared down at the patio floor several days ago, I noticed not only the usual cigarette butts, but two matches as well. Matches?! That was a 'first.' Symbolic Escalation? I thought so. I called Kootch out to the patio as I collected the butts and the matches and put them into the small plastic baggie with the other butts collected over the last several months. Then we noticed 'them' on the patio above us.
I got their attention by telling them that we did not appreciate them dropping their cig butts on our patio, and showed them the baggie full of cig butts. One of them then engaged me in 'conversation' during which we expressed our mutual contempt for each other. Turned out they were 'brothers.' They admitted dropping the cig butts but also insisted that they 'used an ashtray.' I pushed the young bastards 'buttons' a little. A kind of 'meltdown' followed, as the 'spokesperson' began speaking to me in Polish (probably cursing). His voice rose. He seemed to be speaking to the entire neighborhood in a very loud voice. It was quite funny, and I laughed at him. Kootch and I went inside, but could still hear him. So I got my voice recorder and began recording his mindless ranting. I informed him that I was recording him. About that time a neighbor appeared on the grass below us and began trying to calm the situation down. I showed him the baggie of butts as I explained the cause of the problem. The neighbor seemed to sympathize with me as he attempted to calm the outraged orator down a bit. I thanked him for his friendly intervention. After about 5 minutes of recording the ranting from above I got bored and reentered the apartment and turned off the recorder. I had better things to do. But the mindless ranting continued, the neighbor meanwhile attempting to calm the LOUD bastard down. I decided that this was a good time to call the ACSD: violence might well result from this situation. I was not worried personally because I had a loaded .357 Magnum at my disposal, but I felt some concern for the neighbor. I should have dialed 911, but - like an idiot - I dialed the ACSD number taped to a kitchen cabinet door. Bad idea.
