..or on the neighbors becoming considerably less cool
so last night, the nice lady was heading out to the dog run with the lowe. you see, the bastard believes the nice lady needs plenty of fresh air. but actually, she's helping the dog run guy, help raise money for the folks in new orleans who are in trouble. you see, the bastard believes in charity, just not doing it on a subway train while some chucklhead rambles on on how lucky i am that he isn't a pick pocket "anymore".
for the last couple of days, thing1 and thing2 have been going out. they have left their evening shoes out which makes the bastard happy that they might have dates. that will give them something to keep them from being occupied by the minutia of the "door". but last night i cam home from work and the door to their apartment closed. usually they leave their own apartment door open, the bastard doesn't know why. they seem awful preoccupied with the downsatirs door open. i guess they want to leave it ajar so that the bastard can hear thing1's cacking so that the bastard can KNOW that they are cool and having a good time. then they usually slam the door shut when they hear the bastard come home. i find it funny. also, it' lets me off the hook from discussing the days events with them so thing 1 can say things like, "wow man, i can't beleeeeeeve you voted for bush. you work in media, man." anyway, i noticed that the door didn't close in quite same fashion because a black and white cat was closing it and i thought, "look it's a cat. waitaminute, isn't their cat grey?"
flash forward: at about 9:30 karaoke night startes to settle in. old bitties are jabbering up a storm and the smoke is starting to waft in. i turn the fans on exhaust, and shut off the xbox to go and hunker down in the living room until it's all over which is my weekly ritual. at abotu 10ish i notice that there are 4 old bitties chatting up a stoem outside. i take a looksy via the boy's room and it totally reaks of smoke. i set adrenal glands to stun and roll downstairs to ask the bitties to move along. you see, every now and then, the bastard has to remind these middle aged wunderkind that there is a neighborhood here with people living in it and while the mayor's no smoking in bars ban works real nice for the staff of bars, it's not so much with people that LIVE by bars.
so i get downstairs and wht do i see but, only two old bitties and their chatting up a storm with thing 1 and thing 2. thing 1 is smoking up a storm. they also have a new cat and they're giving her a saucer of milk under the boy's window. thing 2 puts the "oh shit" look on and and thing 1 notices me finally when the bitties stop talking and lok at me. thing 1 very nanchalantly turns and says, "hey". i respond with the same and she turns to return to her conversation while taking a drag. i lean in real nice and close and say, "not for nothing, but the boy can smell that in his room...can you take it elsewhere?" she agrees but doesn't put it out. i go in a try to ratchet myself down. you see, the russian keeps telling me (and it rolls in my head over and over again), "you should make peace with your neighbors" and as it resonates i try not to run the full brunt on them as i would one of the bitties. i'd like to make peace with the neighbors but, the banging and crashing that followed as they proceeded to put their garbage in the hallway later in the evening tells me that this situation is becoming beyond repair. now that we're in the passive aggressive stage of things, the bastard wonders when things will ratchet themselves up.
—the bastard
