mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary
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Who Are The People In Your Neighborhood?
The other night I was out in front of my house weeding the flower beds when up drove my neighbor Bee in her Mercedes. I've talked about Bee before. She and her husband spend endless hours having screaming fights that all the neighborhood can hear. On one particular occasion, we heard her husband threaten to shoot her in her sleep. We've listened to her call him a "disgusting slob" and heard him respond that she's a "miserable bitch." Living next to them would be hell if it wasn't for the fact that the husband spends most of his time out of town on work assignments.
Bee and I have our own complex history as well. Over the three years that I have lived next door, Bee has made numerous comments about my gardening style and none of them have been complimentary.
If I were being honest, I'd tell you that I do not have a naturally green thumb. After all, I grew up in Brooklyn, NY where if you see a patch of dirt the thing to do is pave over it with concrete. Tree in your way? No problem, just pave around it. The last time I was in NY I discovered that an urban beautification program along the highway had been discontinued because every time a tree or shrub was planted it would disappear within twenty four hours. That's right, people were hopping out of their cars and onto the median strip to steal plants!
The Northwest is a whole different scene though. Here, gardening is almost a religion. I see neighbors spending upwards of five hours per night just fiddling around in the soil. I've discovered a million new types of "decorative" grass and realized that a water feature for Seattlites is the equivalent of a Madonna in the half shell for my Boroughed brethren.
Despite my humble gardening beginnings, I do try to make things look nice. I keep my lawn mowed and periodically pull up the dandelions. I put in a new plant or herb from time to time. I trim back the dead branches on my rose bush. I keep things as nice as I can without going crazy.
So back to the scene of the crime. I am pulling up weeds and Bee is parking her car.
"You should really just give that up," she calls out to me from the street.
"Excuse me," I respond.
"It's just not working," she says. "The whole thing doesn't fit. *You* don't fit."
"You mean my gardening?"
"Yes," she sighs impatiently as if I am stupid for not understanding her meaning in the first place. By now she has left the car and come to stand next to me on the street. "This is obviously not one of your talents. I'm sure you can find better ways to spend your time."
This is where I should have turned around and punched her in the nose but I was so taken aback that I just stood there slack jawed. She continued on her tirade and described in great detail how inadequate my watering technique was. Apparently, I just come out with the hose and barely wet the soil before I turn back around and shut off the hose. Does anyone else find it incredibly creepy that my neighbor is watching me water my garden? Bee went on describing how much I suck for another ten minutes before she turned around and marched into her house. I don't think I said more than two words.
The thing is, I have no idea what Bee was hoping to accomplish with this discussion. What did she expect me to say or do? And as I reread this, I feel the need to tell you that I don't believe Bee to be any older than 45. This entry makes her sound like an old woman but really she's just completely nuts.
After we were done "conversing" I went and found Pete and told him what had transpired. He wasn't surprised. He told me just to ignore her.
"But what if I snuck out late at night and poisoned all her plants," I asked. "Wouldn't that teach her a lesson!"
"No, but then you would could defeat her for the title of crazy lady on the block." Oh, true.
So I've come up with a plan that's less toxic. I'm going to acquire as many pink plastic flamingos as I can and put them on my lawn. I sort of like pink flamingos anyway so the tackiness of it will only bother her. I am also hoping to get a fountain of a little naked boy peeing and possible a full manger scene with a light up baby Jesus that I will let glow all year round. If you can come up with any other awful lawn ornaments for me to add to the menagerie, drop me a line,
And now, by popular demand, I present to you Earl ...............
11:10 a.m. - 2004-06-16
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