My Apartment.....The Complex

     Im going to attempt to bring you up to speed on an ongoing saga and hopefully introduce a few characters to you from what I refer to as "My Life as a Sitcom". The apartment I live in, itself, is essentially it's own sitcom waiting to happen. From my landlord Diana, who vocally is nothing short of a female version of Hank Hill (King of the Hill), to Roger, the clairvoyant (or he will tell you claircognant, which I can't find spelling for, so that alone should tell you how good of a clair....whatever he is, he actually is) has lived here for I think 38 years, constantly gambles on horses and always has the same story of how he missed it by one horse and should be a millionaire that day. His apartment...let's just say the production crew for "Hoarders" would head for the hills and seek employment elsewhere. Then there are the few sane people that live in this complex who in passing we exchange eye rolls and exhausting sighs after listening to the insane babble from "Team Crazy". Is it wrong fort me to just want to have a cup of coffee and a crossword puzzle on my balcony and not have to deal with a daily.....and I do mean daily distraction of how the woman below me doesn't have water pressure, and it's somehow tied to my apartment, and the plumber and...."Oh for God sake! What does this have to do with me?! What does she want? Tell her to soap up and Ill blast her with the hose, or throw water balloons at her until she's clean! Just let me have my coffee! Then in true Ringling Brothers Fashion, after ohhhhhhh I'd say an hour of torment from Diana (the landlord) and her artistic way of saying the same thing in about 90 different ways, over and over, when bottom line.....she could have said to me "Plumber will be here Monday at 9:30 and he may need to enter your apartment." Done! Fine! Great! Pass the cream and sugar, coffee is getting cold. Out comes Roger,.....(I'm going to stop typing right now, I kid you not, Diana is approaching.....I need to find somewhere else to write my blog other than my balcony.....I'll be back).....

.....Well that was nothing short of painful. Let me remove the pen I tried piercing my ear drum with and continue...where were we....ahhhhh yes! Roger! He will come out, on his way to do his black topping. He will mutter something that he thinks is funny, Ill give the courtesy chuckle and then he will just invite himself up the stairs to my blacony and fill me in on the same crap I heard the day before. How he missed again on the horses. He's doing a job in Pamona and the guy hasn't paid him yet and owes him 3000 dollars, women don't want him and the only women he can get are crazy and insane.....I'm sorry, one of these days I need to break it to him that like attracts like.....but it continues, then after about 20 minutes of exhaustion the vivid smell of vinegar hits the olfactory sensor. Yes, he rubs himself in vinegar.....EVERYDAY! Not sure if it keeps the bad spirits away, or human beings in general, or most likely women, ya know, that aren't crazy! He wonders why? First of all he's no Brad Pitt, you add that to someone who smells like Greek salad, come on. Yeah sign me up! Can't wait for that date!  But he has some theory that the vinegar helps the massive burn scar he has on his arm. Keeps the skin soft. I apologize, am I grossing you out?! Well at least you didn't have to touch it. Let's not mince words. I didn't WANT to touch it. I had no choice when he grabbed my hand and said, "Feel! See?!" "Ohhhhh yep!", I replied "So soft.....so soft. Im gonna be late for work I gotta quickly dry heave and then get to work".  (Daily basis guys....daily basis. They are lucky the rent is cheap.) So this kills another good 45 minutes to an hour of my morning peaceful time and my stress and anxiety builds as I just want to enjoy the morning and relax. Finally Roger leaves.

      I empty and refill my now cold coffee, let out a giant sigh of exhaustion, roll the eyes for exercise and make my way back to the porch to fill in the first word in my puzzle. Ironically, 1 across, Clue: Public Annoyance. (Well unfortunately LANDLORD and ROGER didn't fit.) I get a good solid 10 minutes of peace and the next one rolls in. Now, Nikki, I have grown to like. She's not all that bad. If you want to know where apples are the cheapest, who sells the softest toilet paper or where you can get 20 cans of Fancy Feast Cat Food for $5.99, it's better than smelling vinegar and hearing about Roger's erectile disfunction. (Yep, didn't mention that before, but there it is. That topic has come up quite a few times, no pun intended.) If you think I am making this up, come stay with me for a week. Some of you can actually attest to this, have witnessed it, or gotten lucky enough to have your palm read in passing and told that you are an altruistic warrior that sees the world in the way it shouldn't be seen, or can be seen, through the eyes of someone who sees what's unseen to the human eye....I know, it hurts.

     This is a dent in the stories that have compiled after 7 1/2 years of living in this complex. The only choice I have is to look at it comically, appreciate the material I am delivered on a silver platter and now share it with you as I can't enjoy this all to myself. This kind of material is meant to be shared. Hopefully you found a shred of laughter in the pain I endure day in and day out. There is plenty more where this came from so stay tuned. If you've read through this and laughed so hard your face hurts, two things,..... 1.) I've done my job and made you smile. 2.) Laughing causes wrinkles, but fear not, just slather on some distilled white vinegar before bed and they will be gone by morning. I heard that works.