I was awakened by a knock on the door early this morning around 8:30. It was my next-door neighbor telling me that our car door was open (and not just ajar either; WIDE OPEN) and that she had shut it for me. She was concerned that someone might have tried to break in.
The first question was “How much water got in it”? — It has been raining pretty steadily since at least as long as I’ve been up. She assured me the car didn’t get wet, as it had just started to sprinkle when she shut it for me. Thank heaven for neighbors like her!
So I ask Robert about it and he of course claims no knowledge of it. But who else went out there and forgot to shut the car door? (Note to one and all, especially Robert: I might be fat, and I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid.)
So I give him the cold shoulder all morning. We have an errand to run today. I was going to get him a Walkman MP3 player. Screw that. He’s getting nothing. Oh, yeah, one thing. The royal boot.
Because it gets better. When I asked him for all my cards (ATM and credit cards) out of his wallet, he says “I’ll go get them in a minute. They’re in the car.” (And I’ve told him many, many times not to keep his wallet in the car, but of course, he never listens to me.) I said, trying very hard to contain my growing wrath, “Well, please go get them. I’ve told you before about keeping your wallet in the car.” As we go down the stairs, he said, “I walked to the Shell last night and I would have known if the car door was open, the interior light would be on.” I testily replied, “Well do you think [the neighbor] was lying?” “No, but it wasn’t open when I went downstairs last night. (Oh, yeah, THAT is really reassuring.)
So he goes down and I follow him. He claims he has to go to the store to buy cigarettes. He of course starts backing out of the driveway with me in the passenger seat. I’d gone down with him to see if in fact there was any water damage to the car. He asks me, “Are you going to the store with me?” So I shut the door as he backed out, muttering “Well, I guess I am.”
He then peels out of the driveway, the car dies, he restarts it, and continues to peel down the street. And instead of hanging a left to go to the Shell gas station, where he USUALLY buys his cigarettes, he turns right, toward the grocery store, where he NEVER buys cigarettes because he claims they are too expensive there.
When I asked, icily, “I thought you were going to buy cigarettes!” he angrily shouted, “Well, there were some OTHER things I was going to get!” and slams on the brakes. We practically jump the curb, and he turns around in the middle of the street, with me saying, “What is this shit? Do you want to have a wreck?”
He goes back home, and I am calmly stating as we pull in the driveway, “If you’ve fucked up my car then I WILL ask you to leave.”
Fortunately, nothing happened to the car — I’m amazed, I thought sure the wheel was fucked up. But you know what. I am going to ask him to leave. I really don’t need this kind of aggravation in my life. So what he makes my lunch every day, and brings breakfast and dinner to me that he’s cooked himself.
When someone exhibits that kind of irresponsibility, it’s pretty damn hard to overlook.
What do you think? I’m pretty calm about the whole thing, which is a good sign that my mind is made up. As for Robert, he’s not here right now. He walked to wherever he was going in the 40-degree drizzle. If he gets sick, tough. He should have thought of that when he was abusing MY car….