Hey, guess what, folks, my neighbors still suck! Imagine my surprise when she came home at 2 am with everyone she knew! I think two of the guys were her brothers, but whoever they were, they fit into the “in desperate need of my foot in his ass” category. They thought the only way to open or close a door was by throwing your shoulder into it NFL style, or just kicking it. That alone didn’t make me want to drop a piano on their heads, though. It was more the attitude. Sit back and relax as I try to paint a verbal picture. Should take about a thousand words or so.

I heard them yelling before they even got to the building, and the excitement of being at the building made them yell even more. They were those late teen gangster types, who think they are really tough, but are actually just punkass kids. The yelling got the dog excited, and he ran in circles for a few minutes, knocking over everything in her apartment, or at least that’s how it sounded. As always, I looked at the clock and stated the time out loud to myself in disbelief, as if this was going to suddenly make things stop or somehow make sense. They went out behind the Ladyfriend’s apartment to scream to their friends on their cell phones, slamming doors hard enough to make the windows rattle in the Ladyfriend’s apartment. I was walking around by now, looking out the windows to see how many counts of murder I was going to be charged with, when one of them went out the main front door of the building. You know, the one that locks behind you and requires a key? Its purpose is to keep out the riffraff.

It works.

Unfortunately, this particular riffraff wanted to come back in.

How does a cerebrally unenhanced gangster poser get back into a door that just locked behind him at an apartment building where he doesn’t live at 2 am, when there is a back door he could use?

Simple. Rattle the shit out of the door and start yelling, that’s how. By the second yell, I had my pants on and was headed down the stairs to dole out some frigging manners by the fistful. When I got to the door, I used the NFL tactic and accidentally hit the douchebag with the door. Oops. He was about 19, baggy shorts, tee shirt, cigarette behind his ear, avoiding eye contact because he was simply too cool to even exist on this planet. I stared at him Vic Mackey style* until he looked me in the eye, and I said, “IT’S TWO IN THE MORNING, ASSHEAD. COULD YOU KEEP THE NOISE DOWN?!” His response did something I did not think possible, and that was to piss me off even more-

“’das cool, man, heeba jak whermembeseuen..mm” I get pissed off enough when black people speak so poorly they can’t be understood. I know they are capable of speaking English, but they choose not to. It really ticks me off when a white punk does it. “Good.” I responded to a statement I didn’t hear. I then headed back up the stairs to knock on the girl’s door and make sure there was no confusion about the situation. He was oozing up the stairs behind me, about to pop a cap in my ass for all I know, and he says “Dude, like I said, it’s cool.” I turned to him as he came up the stairs and gave him a look that said in no uncertain terms that “it” was anything but “cool”. I have never stopped anyone in their tracks by looking at them before, but it certainly worked last night. I think if I had hair or was wearing a shirt it wouldn’t have worked. A shaved head makes you look crazy, or at least less stable than the kid with the baggy pants. I also had some crease marks from the sheets all up and down my torso and face, so it looked like I had scars from a wheat threshing accident or a fight with a bear. I looked like the white death, and it worked for me.

The girl next door answered the door, and I was all insane, so she sort of just peeked through the crack as I politely asked if they could see their way to shutting the fuck up before I systematically disemboweled them all.

They didn’t make a single noise the rest of the night, and I stayed awake until 5 am anyway.

Whee.

*Vic Mackey is the crazy cop guy from the coolest cop show ever in the history of cops or shows. The Shield. Since I lost the hair and have been lifting weights again, I have been getting more and more “you look like Mackey” comments from friends and strangers. It is a welcome change from the “you look like Brad Pitt” comments I was getting before.

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