Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Meet the Neighbors!

Ever have one of those moments when you have the perfect thing to say; the wittiest, pithiest and most devastating comeback in the history of the world, but it doesn’t come to you until 30 minutes after it would have simply rocked to have said it?

Yeah me, too. All the time.

Except this evening, when I actually spat it out. (Though as usual, I kind of feel bad for having said it. I should be more mature.)

Sit back and let me spin my yarn…

Neighbor, let’s call him “Bob” (please note, his real name is a four letter name and I am studiously avoiding calling him by my preferred name for him, i.e., “Dick,” but “Bob” will do) is out mowing his lawn. I am driving myself and the kids home. He steps into the street to spin his mower around. There is an oncoming car with its blinding high beams on, so I can’t really see him. But I do see Bob in plenty of time, so I don’t smash into him. Not even close.

He stops his mower and turns and screams a few choice obscenities at me, telling me to slow down. (It’s the F-bomb, kids! And I don’t drop that, but take my word for it.) I have all my windows down, so I and my kids can hear every lovely syllable of his oath filled rant.

I stop the car and get out to tell Bob that “Hey, I’m sorry, but I didn’t see you because of the oncoming car. I’m sorry if it looked like I was going to hit you for a second there.”

I don’t have a chance to get that out my mouth, because Bob is yelling at me as I walk toward him.

“You need to slow the f. down. You are f-ing going to kill my dog.”

“I’m sorry, but your dog was nowhere near the street and I was pretty blinded by that car. And I wasn’t driving that fast.”

“You need to f-ing slow down on this street.”

This is my street, too, by the way.

“Well, I don’t think I drive too fast. I’ve never hit a dog, cat or child with my car in my whole life, but people can have different opinions about this kind of stuff and heck, everyone thinks they are excellent and safe drivers, so sure, I’ll try and slow down. No problem.”

Really. I was that reasonable. You’ll just have to believe me on that score.

But he’s still yelling at me about how I am the f-ing fastest driver on the street and that someday I’m going to f-ing kill his dog.

“Well, I disagree with your over generalization that I’m the fastest driver on the street, but fine, people can disagree about that kind of thing. I’m sorry.”

Apparently, my people skills worked their magic, because he admonished me a little more and then seemingly mollified, he introduced himself to me, “Anyway, my name is Bob.”

“My name is Jon. I live right up there.”

“I know where you live. You also need to do something about your backyard.”

I need to interrupt and explain something right here.
Our backyard? Until a couple weeks ago, it was a total mess. I hadn’t mowed all summer, weeds were everywhere and it was a disaster. Of epic proportions.
Really. A whole commune of hippies could have been back there practicing free love and burning a giant peace sign on the veritable forest the lawn had become and we would not have known. Our front yard is fine, by the way. The way our property is, we don’t have a front lawn, it’s all flower beds and walkways. But you can’t see into our backyard AT ALL from the road, so it’s not like it’s an eyesore or depreciating precious property values.
My only excuse is that I have a busy life and I kind of loathe yard work, so making the backyard acceptable is low on my priority list.
But it is on Reha’s list, so a couple weeks ago, I finally started working in the back and it’s in “OK” shape. It’s nowhere near great, but we’d at least know to evict any hippies.
And though technically the current condition of our backyard isn’t germane to the rest of this rant, I thought you should know that it’s WAY better now. Bob’s info about the state of our backyard is out of date.
Carry on.

Let me repeat him again and please note, the yelling about me and my awful driving was over.

“I know where you live. You also need to do something about your backyard.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I had thought once he formally introduced himself to me that we were moving into the congenial “I’ve said my piece, now we can be friendly” stage. He was pretty calm by this point and I’d apologized for the mere possibility that I could have killed his freely roaming dog in the street. (I also hadn’t brought up that his dog was A) sniffing my crotch constantly while all this went on, B) his dog is much more likely to get hit by any car if he lets it scoot around unleashed, but that’s because I didn’t want to argue with him. For I am Jon. The generally laid back and non-confrontational Peace-maker.)

He then goes on to tell me that he has dinner ALL THE TIME at our immediate neighbor’s house and they can see into our “ratty” backyard from the deck and that I should fix that. He’s detailing not only how bad it is and questioning not only my gardening skills (such as they are), but also my fitness as a human. And repeating that I obviously want to kill his unleashed dog with my car.

At this point? I got a wee bit annoyed. I hadn’t argued with him about his perception of my driving, I had apologized and said I would be more careful in the future. But holy mushrooms on a frozen banana, I could not let that pass.

So I popped off. To wit:

“OK, Bob. So we’ve established that you think I’m a Formula One driver out to kill or maim all domesticated animals on this street and possibly a few children, never mind that I live here, too. Fine. I disagree, but I can accept that. In your eyes, I’m a horrible driver. Check. But now, completely out of the blue, you’ve pointed out that I’m a terrible homeowner and a slovenly gardner. IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE? Is there anything else you feel the need to say about my person or character, now that we are meeting here on the street FOR THE FIRST TIME? Let me help you, I’m a little overweight. Maybe you could say something about that. You don’t like my beard? Let’s hear what you think of it! You don’t like my shirt, maybe? My kids are in the car, I could go get them and you could say crappy things about them, too. But I’ll tell you what, Bob, here is what I have learned about you in the past five minutes of your screaming and swearing at me. You never learned a fundamental lesson which I can only assume your parents either failed to teach you or you simply passed over as unimportant drivel: ‘You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.’ Just exactly what did you think was going to happen by your dropping that crack about my backyard into the discussion?”

“Um. I don’t know?”

“Did you think you were telling me something I didn’t know? That I’d be surprised about it? Or that I would suddenly drop everything else in my life and start cleaning up my backyard right this second, because, ‘Oh, there is a person named Bob down the street who disapproves of how I take care of my backyard?! Screw everything else I have on my plate, BOB IS UPSET about my unholy disaster of a backyard that can’t even be seen from the road. I better get cracking!’ Probably not going to happen, I have to be honest with you, Bob. But mostly, I just wonder why, once this thing about my driving seemed resolved that you felt it necessary to pile on like that and bring up the dilapidated state of my backyard?”

“I don’t know. I just said it.”

“Delightful.”

Anyway. I met Bob tonight.

Posted by Jon on 08/12/08 at 11:27 PM

I think you need to send your commune of hippies over to “Bob’s” house and have them burn “Asshat” into his front lawn.

I’m just sayin’…

Posted by Loralee on 08/12/08 at 11:37 PM
God, neighbors are a beautiful lot, aren’t they? What a treasure that one is. Be sure to take your Christmas lights down in a timely manner, lest you offend Bob.

Posted by califmom on 08/13/08 at 04:05 AM
Oh, please be sure to call the city/county council on Bob if his grass gets 1/4th an inch over the established limit. Oh, and I bet his yard is full of dog poo. THAT can’t be good for your kids.

Hating Bob. HATING.

Posted by TheQueen on 08/13/08 at 05:56 AM
Bravo for having the mind/mouth/moment connection to execute your comeback. It was witty, pithy, AND devastating. Bob was disarmed. Crazy Bob…

Posted by Csquaredplus3 on 08/13/08 at 06:11 AM
Let me just say this about that....

Go Jon…
Go Jon…
Go Jon…

Etc., ad infinitum.

Enjoy the crap outa your blog, BTW. You should write more often.

Posted by Chris on 08/13/08 at 08:01 AM
Bob, eh? What a d-bag.

Excellent retort.

Posted by A on 08/13/08 at 08:17 AM
A+ Response.

Posted by Corey on 08/13/08 at 09:42 AM
Wow, that was amazing. I have never really confronted a hostile party like you did, that really takes balls. Calm balls.

Wait a second, now that I am thinking about it, the only time I ever said the F word to anyone was when I told a guy my sister was dating, “I never really f-ing liked you anyway.” A few months later he knocked her up. I sure showed him!

Posted by jantzie on 08/13/08 at 09:45 AM
Good for you! I usually come up with the greatest responses at 2 AM. If only I could have the conversations then because I would verbally disect people.

Every house I’ve lived in is the eyesore of the neighborhood, according to the neighbors. Thank god I don’t live in a community where they get all upset about the length of my lawn or whether the flowers are weeded or not. I just have other, more interesting things to do with my time and I get to it when I get to it - on my schedule, not their’s!

Posted by Mary Beth on 08/13/08 at 10:12 AM
More mature? Oh no, I think you were perfectly mature. Bob needs to learn some social skills. Maybe you could slip a copy of Miss Manners under his welcome mat sometime.

Also, so glad you live next to Bob instead of me. Because I might do some immature thing like egg his car or spraypaint his mailbox bright purple. I’m just sayin.

Posted by HeatherPride on 08/13/08 at 11:10 AM
But, Jon, you DO drive fast, and all crazy like. Luckily you usually have kid toys in your car to distract people like me who scare easily.

Posted by Sarah on 08/13/08 at 01:02 PM
Whenever I have one of those moments when I think of the perfect thing to say about 10 minutes after I should have said it, I’m going to remember this story and think, “Someday you’ll have the perfect comeback. If Bishop Deal did it, so can you!!!”

Thanks for keepin’ the hope alive.

Posted by Andi on 08/13/08 at 05:37 PM
Wow. Bob sounds like a really swell guy.

Posted by Amanda on 08/13/08 at 05:56 PM
I freakin’ luv ya’ Jon, this is hilarious~

Posted by NerdGirl on 08/13/08 at 07:16 PM
What a freaking JERK! Sounds like someone deserves to have animal control called on their lazy, no-leash-wearing dog. Seriously.

Loved your response.

Posted by Pants on 08/14/08 at 12:14 AM
What an ass. I would’ve been hard-pressed to not rail on him for dropping the F-bomb within the vicinity of my kids. Sounds like a TPing is in order, mayhaps?

BTW, the French have a name for coming up with a riposte when it’s too late. They call it esprit de l’escalier, or staircase wit.

Posted by Jim on 08/14/08 at 10:24 AM
Bob is probably one of George Babbitt’s grand kids.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Babbitt

Posted by Michael on 08/14/08 at 03:23 PM
Well Bob seems… nice. Informed for sure. I think you should invite Bob over for a BBQ and a safari in your backyard.

Posted by Miss on 08/14/08 at 05:58 PM
Thank you all for your kind words.

And yes, as I predicted, I do feel kinda bad about posting this. I’m such a pushover.

Until I remember that Bob stopped everything and completely unprovoked, began complaining about my lawn.

Then I get grumpy again.

AND!

Bob was out walking his dogs tonight (he lives down street from us, not right next door) and Ellis and I saw him through our dining room window.

“Hey, Ellis look! It’s Bob.” (I actually used his pseudonym, oy vey, what is WRONG with me?) “He’s walking his dog.”

“He yells too much.”

I gave her an extra popsicle after dinner tonight.

Posted by jon on 08/14/08 at 10:57 PM
OK, wait a second. It just occurred to me that you have junior-high age children. Most people have children for two reasons:
1. Oops,
2. When they get to be about junior-high age they can start mowing the lawn.

Sorry Lucas, but us old folks have to stick together.

Posted by Michael on 08/15/08 at 08:08 PM
Wow that was hilarious to read! I don’t think I could have kept a straight face. Neighbors sure can be a bitch sometimes. Good comeback.

http://k8mc.wordpress.com/

Posted by Katie on 08/20/08 at 06:38 PM

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Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Meet the Neighbors!

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