Friday, June 19, 2009

Raised by Wolves?

Summer tastes like... a big sweet tomato. This time of year, dinner is often an ear of corn and a few slices of tomato. It's not quite harvest season yet, but the produce stand around the corner has some gorgeous almost-local 'maters and Mary Ann brought me one. First, it graced a grilled cheese sandwich, with Smoked Gouda. The next day, I grilled a huge Portobello mushroom on my tiny George Foreman grill. (It took me awhile to warm up to this appliance and I have to say, now I'm hooked.) On some great whole grain bread, I stacked several slices of that tomato, the mushroom, a slice of Provolone, and a dab o' Pesto. Tomorrow, the giant tomato will make its grand finale in an omelet. And then I will go shopping for another tomato, because this time of year, they actually taste like tomatoes.

It's a no-sleeping-pill night, and therefore a no-sleep night. Not always, but almost always. I thought I might as well get up out of bed and ramble for awhile. It is also a very warm, muggy night, but I can't blame my sleeplessness on that. As any of my Hoodies or Foodies will attest, you can hang meat in my living room. I'm all for helping save the planet, and I'm willing to make sacrifices large and small, with that notable exception. I refuse to sweat in my own living room. I hate to sweat. (Yes, this also makes aerobic exercise a bit of a problem.) I recycle paper, glass and plastic. I use CFLs - complact fluorescents - in all my lamps. I combine errands. I observe "no-zone" action days. But I hate to be hot, and I hate to sweat, and if I can possibly avoid that, I will.

I've met two of the three new neighbors. First impression is that the three little pigs have been replaced by the three little Bimbeaux. I don't know what kind of work they do -- if they work at all -- but they keep odd hours. And they had quite a party Wednesday night. Strange, no? It was getting noisy around 10-11pm, so I looked out front just to see if the party had spilled outdoors. It hadn't; it was just one noisy Bim. But I noticed that parking had become an issue: there were cars behind and in front of mine, both very close. If I had needed to get out for any reason, I could not have done so without either hitting these cars, or having them towed.

The Bims and their guests slept in. Cars did not start moving until after 10am. I wanted to at least try "catching flies with honey," so when I heard someone start the car behind mine, I went outside and knocked on her window. Turns out she was a guest, not a tenant, but I still asked if she might park just a little more carefully. "Um, yeah, okay..." was the response, but I'm sure she drove away harrumphing, "Whateverrrrrr!" I got almost the same response when I spoke to the girl who parked in front of me. She is a tenant, and had parked less than 6" from my front bumper. Not a word of apology from either one.
"I'm sure you didn't realize this when you parked, but you've had my car pinned in here for more than 12 hours."
"There wasn't any place else to park!" she protested. Of course, this wasn't true. There were plenty of places to park, but they would have required her walking, i.e. manual forward propulsion, 12 feet or more.
"Well, I'd really appreciate it if you would park so that I can at least get my car out."
She just stared at me. I couldn't tell if she'd had an extra bowl of stupid, or if this was really a passive-aggressive nasty thing going on.

I wonder the same thing now as I did with the three little pigs: who is raising these selfish, spoiled brats? Do they think this sense of entitlement is going to suit them their whole lives? I'm not going to accept their youth as an excuse. Supergirls 1 and 2 are shining examples of thoughtful, responsible, kind young people. Likewise, my neighbors across the street, just about the same age, have been awesome neighbors. I'm not thrilled that they also seem to have 4-6 vehicles, but they have been nothing but kind and considerate. In fact, upon seeing the parking debacle, they offered to park 2 of their cars in front of and behind mine so this doesn't happen again.

The house next door seems to be a magnet for boorish, selfish, inconsiderate little boars and sows. And this little piggie has had enough. Now, having vented, perhaps I can sleep just a little bit...

1 comment:

susan said...

Just tell them the truth: next time you will have no choice but to dent their cars as you attempt to exit. Gosh, Little Interchangeable Bimbeaux, my bad!!