All Kinds of Crazy

This post was supposed to be about my landlord, but it isn’t. Instead, I am going to bombard you with highlights of never before seen crazy. Crazy that laughs at Sister Someone/Brother Everything, Prince Charming and the Mormons and Him and the Hooker. It isn’t  man related crazy…my only non-Panel male contact was the weekend when Hangout Buddy dragged me out the house for some much needed socialization and interaction. Did you know outside feels different from inside? I had forgotten. It is not sexually related crazy…after the Surprise Crossdresser last week, everyone has been either a flake or lonely. The internet is a lonely, lonely place sometimes and apparently I am the Friend of the Friendless. This crazy is scary and I can totally see a Single White Female situation happening here; all I am going to say is stay tuned to Channel 4 news because when shit pops off, I am only speaking with Jim Vance and Doreen Gentzler.

If you are my Facebook friend, you already know I have a #CrazyNeighbor. Actually, I have two but the one I am referring to is the chick who leaves the strange messages taped to her door for folks only she knows about and can see. The #CrazyNeighbor is SO crazy, the other #crazyneighbor won’t even associate with her. It. Just. Got. Real. The woman has lived here over a year, but no one had actually seen her or talked to her….there had been sightings and the notes and stories.  She was the Urban Myth of my building. She was rumored to knock on people’s doors during the day and attempt to jimmy your locks with a screwdriver when there was no answer. The notes on her door are legendary yet no one ever saw or heard her put them up, but the Early Morning Oldies Dance Party? The entire second floor and all of Main Street knew about those. She says the loud music was to attract the government’s attention to let them know she was on to them. She knows they have followed her and are responsible for her being put out of her last 5 places. (Section 8 vouchers….Uncle Sam’s GPS)

At this point, I have to tell you this is going to be a longish post and you should grab snacks, drinks and aspirin. Until now, my dealings with #CrazyNeighbor had been limited…I would see her hanging out of her window every once in awhile when I was headed to work but that was it. Until she knocked on my door last week looking for a cigarette. Yet another reason to give up smoking. What has kicked off has me wondering if Rod Serling lives in the building. What should have taken 3 minutes tops turned into a 2 hour long visit where Crazy Neighbor went between my peephole and my kitchen window to see who was watching her and I will explain all in a minute but can I say right here and now I see why Christians say they will pray for you when one is in need…give a person rope, they wanna be a cowboy. #CrazyNeighbor takes the rope and wants to be the cowboy in the rodeo riding the bull.

So the chick asks me for a cigarette and me being a gracious hostess, I invite her in and give her TWO cigarettes. Not because I am that nice but because I didn’t want her coming back for another one. #CrazyNeighbor looks around and says how nice my place is (what she meant was I actually had furniture) and proceeds to walk around. I was miffed but since you can see practically every inch of the apartment from the center of the main room, didn’t get too bent out of shape. But #CN kept going between the peephole in the front door and my kitchen window. NO idea what she was looking at because the kitchen faces an empty courtyard and the peephole sees whoever is on the other side of the door…no peripherals. Then she asked for a light (I though the cigarettes were going with her!), sits down and starts talking. And talking.

The first thing she told me is that she grew up on Montana Avenue, back in the day. DC folks know what that means and it explains a lot. This chick has been crazy for awhile. Secondly, she tells me the Navy Yard Shooter was a good friend of hers (she called him by his first name), he had called her several times before the shooting saying “they” were in his head and that they are both victims of gangstalking. She says the government is “microwaving” them and they, among many, are “targeted individuals”. Youtube it! she says and is staring between me and my laptop, waiting for me to do so. I swear, she started tapping her foot. I tell her that her theory is interesting but I am a little busy at the moment and usher out the door. She returns 15 minutes later asking to use my phone as the government has taken hers. She had the numbers of important people who were going to blow the whistle on their nefarious scheme and so they either took it from her apartment or she lost it 6 streets over…depends on which personality is telling the story at the time.

I so did not want this woman using my phone and told her if she was a targeted individual, I don’t want my number or residence associated with her but she assured me she was calling a friend of hers to bring her something. I still had reservations but when this chick goes off (no if in it), I may be spared because I was nice to her. Within 5 minutes, she had made three phone calls: one did not answer but the other two folks hung up as soon as she identified herself. Again, a 5 minute visit turned into almost 2 hours, complete with the circuit between peephole and window. This time, she tells me about her hatred of white people. Now, will admit right here and now, I am a latent equal opportunity racist but only when pissed and disliking people but for the most part, I love all folks. Especially white folks….I have the hots for their men.

#CrazyNeighbor has a deep seated dislike for white people and calls them not nice names and has stated on more than occasion she refuses to work because she does not want the white man’s job nor his money. And she hates money because it has faces of white men on it. (Personally, Ben Franklin is my favorite dead white man) However, the woman is crazy, not stupid and knows that money is a necessity, so she performs massages for money (Lord, we have something in common) and folds her money so the white faces are on the inside. She is also homophobic (at least when it comes to men on men) but likes to touch my hair and always wants to massage my shoulders.

The visit ended with a trip to her apartment. I absolutely adore her apartment and I want it. Badly. I think coveting is a sin but at least it is a sin I don’t have to get naked for. Between the layout and the lack of balcony (outdoor space in real estate language), her studio is almost twice the size of mine. She faces the front and has an incredible view of the Brookland and ArtsWalk signs and before the 7-11 became a reality, she could see the Basilica. Her kitchen….it makes me happy and wet….totally upgraded, glass backsplash, huge, roomy cabinetry in dark wood, an incredible gas stove/oven (she has never used it!) and granite countertops. Her bathroom is like something out of House Hunters: Hotel Edition with its oversized pedestal sink, intricate tile and ceramic tub.

However, for all its perks, plusses and ability to make me happy…something is not right about that apartment. First, the landlord (and he may be all that’s wrong with it)….Crazy Neighbor has sockets and outlets hanging out of the wall by thin threads; her deadbolt is not in a north/south direction. It isn’t even in an east-west direction….if the lock were a clock it would be stuck at 4:20. No Bueno. Her tub leaks and the wooden venetian blinds are warped. She says she has told him and showed him and his response is he will fix t when she moves out. Previous renters, while not as crazy, have been phantoms….personally, I have only seen two of them (total of once each) and no one stays long in that unit.

So, for a couple of days, #CrazyNeighbor stays in her unit and leaves me and mine alone. I did start taking her food when I had extra because she has absolutely nothing in there to eat. Her meals consist of soda, cookies and potato chips from the gas station. And that is where I made my mistake….in being nice to her, in having some sympathy for her situation (financial at least), she has labeled me her friend and her first act to celebrate our friendship was to pound on my door at 2am. I open my door to see her shivering, crying and bundled up in winter hat and coat, crying that the military (apparently there is a base right across the street from me) was using ELF (electronic low frequency) beamed into her apartment via the STREETLIGHT outside her window. The ELF is what was warping her blinds and it was burning her skin. There is a chip in her head that is talking too loud and every white neighbor in the building (which is everyone except for me, Honeybee and the Electrician) have been PLACED here by the government to bully and abuse her into leaving. The government was trying to draw her out into the open and the #1 White Neighbor behind it all? None other than the Crazy Old White Man who lives below me…and that is when I blew my top.

First, Crazy Old White Man is my favorite neighbor…hands down. He says nothing about my yelling, screaming and cursing when I am hurt and crazy over men. He says nothing when I run my vacuum at 6am, he ignores my loud, orgasm induced screams and he said absolutely nothing when my bathtub fell in on him. Besides the fact the man has been here at least 20 years, he will not step foot in anyone’s home and does not allow you access into his…he has his own conspiracy theories going on. So I had to break it down to #CrazyNeighbor that NO ONE in the building was out to get her, the letters of complaint were about her loud music and that was it. She says the letters stated she smoked weed….she may (I have never smelled it), but since we have been housing Jamaica in our basement unit for the past ten years, not sure the little bit of pot she could afford would bother anyone. She says the white folks said she has company all hours of the night…I have no idea because there are times I am busy with my own late night company/late hours and no one has run into anyone coming or going. I told her to take her paranoid ass the hell home and LEAVE.ME.ALONE.

She was back the next day. Frankly, I could totally be #TeamCrazyNeighbor because I feel she really means no and causes no harm. Yes, she is a paranoid schizophrenic but she is lonely and in need of a friend and understanding. She doesn’t have a lot (her apartment is basically empty save a sofa bed, a window fan and a recliner) nor a lot of money or food and apparently no social skills. Being neighborly goes a long way. Don’t get me wrong, she is crazier than a bedbug with her paranoia, phobias and passive aggressive racism but basically she is harmless. I don’t think she does drugs (but she does need meds), is quieter than a mouse (she no longer treats the second floor to the Early Morning Dance Party) but my issue is she is too needy. I try to help who I can when I can (remember, my resources are critically limited) but she needs things ALL.THE.TIME. Maybe I am not a good person, but I help when I feel like it.  I don’t always feel like it. I can’t be your ONLY friend because Dottie doesn’t like people and loves solitude.

Since putting her on restriction (she actually wanted us to have meals together), the woman has taken to spying on me… oh, the irony of a stalker being stalked. I swear she stares out her peephole all day waiting for a glimpse of me. When I leave out to take down the trash, collect mail or knock on Honeybee’s door, she darts out her door to corner me and tell me the latest in government tactics. When I left out to go on my outing with Hangout Buddy, she was in the window telling me to have a good time. She has tracked me down and found me at Honeybee’s. No lie, she told Honeybee I had to be at her place because she never saw me leave the building and did not answer my door…I must’ve slipped over when she went to the bathroom. When I came back from the grocery store, she was looking out the window and came down to see what food I had…no offers to help bring the food up. I think she may hang out in the hall outside my door because lately, as soon as I get on the phone, she knocks. I am more frustrated and impatient than scared and it seems that telling her off does not faze her. My crazy has no power with her.

So this is the tale of #CrazyNeighbor…I know I was thinking some crazy would alleviate some of the stress I am having/feeling but was hoping for a flaky, lying, cute- to- me white guy whose great kisses belied his lack of sexual prowess. I have not seen or heard from #CN in a full 24 hours so I have her resting up for more sneak attacks. Thanks for sticking with me and reading all the way through….going to clean up some and relax the rest of the evening. Between #CrazyNeighbor, a potential new “date” whose approach is very much like that of PC with the texting and job applications (12 in two days)…a sister is wiped. Maybe I will re-watch the How to Get Away with Murder finale….Annalise and Frank are total badasses.  I will return soon with new posts and potential updates.

As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s