neighbor drama
The redhead and I live in an apartment building. Our downstairs neighbors have been heard fighting like hell recently and I'm inclined mainly to blame the guy for this, since he's obviously on steroids and has major mood problems. Not that the female is without blame, anyone with a guy with problems also has problems, be they less public or what have you. I say steroids because A) he's physically monstrous, and B) the clinking of his weight bench or whatever sometimes continues into the wee hours. Or did anyway.Today things changed downstairs, as I discovered as I passed their door after a nice afternoon teasing alligators from the relative safety of a fan boat, which I've decided is the only way to travel. Here's what I saw on the ground outside.
That's a lot of trash and some perfectly good boots. My suspicion that the seasons of the heart were in flux was much heightened by the notes on the door --plural. Click and they get bigger, or ought to.
Eddie getting out of there seems to me to be the best thing for everyone. He's obviously meant to come there if he's supposed to see those notes, and when he does she better have changed the locks or he's going inside, and when he goes inside, and if she's home when he does, the cops are going to need plastic gloves and tape recorders to deal with the aftermath. Whatever they were fighting about before was peanuts compared to her kicking his mean ass out, and the way it sounded it damn near sent her clean through the wall back then.
I love how he's named Eddie. Sometimes it seems the world's just there to entertain me.
4 Comments:
Well. For chrissakes, did you flip the notes up? What was on the back side?
The backs are blank. Plus they're stapled together at the bottom, so they don't flip up. On the insides are glossy photos. I don't know what's in the first one, but the one on the right is Eddie leaning up against his truck.
I expected it to be recon photos of Eddie and some other chick or something, but quarreling psychos don't make a lot of sense.
The text on the left one implies a very asshole-ish photograph, something totally horrible and outrageous. In all probability, he was standing next to a sedan instead of a truck.
K, I looked and all that trash and the notes are gone, probably along with the life force that once inhabited the body of Eddie's girlfriend.
Sadly, we will never know what the picture was of. Not sadly, I don't get killed by Eddie.
Next time I'll dig a little deeper, to give all of you what you pay for. And I call this a blog...
Post a Comment
<< Home