Monday, November 21, 2011


When I went down to the laundry room yesterday to do my laundry, surprisingly, there were two people already there.  Since I had to schlep my two laundry baskets into my car and drive down there and schlep my two laundry baskets into the laundry room, I decided to wait, since one elderly lady was only there watching the Nascar races and the other lady had clothes in the washers and the dryers, which were on their way out.

While waiting watching Nascar, the race was stopped because of rain, but the little old lady was determined to wait it out for a half an hour, and since she was there before me, I sat there bored.  No more computer, no magazines, just books, which I wasn't about to delve into.  She asked me if I wanted to watch something else, but I declined, since she was there before me and she had control over the remote, which she had clutched in her hand like it was cemented to it.  I would have watched some of the channels I don't get on my basic cable channels, like the cooking, history or arts channels.

So the little old lady watching the Nascar was full of talk.  In fact, she couldn't stop talking.  She talked about everything.  Her family, the Nascar racers, her new headset she purchased to watch TV because one of her neighbors was sensitive to noise.  She just kept going and going, like the Energizer bunny.  Through all of her jibber jabber, I found out some very interesting gossip in the apartment complex.

The disgusting next door neighbor who used to smoke and hack up flem and spitting out chewing tobacco, just had quadruple heart surgery.  Gee, I wonder why!  I also found out that the other lady doing her laundry, who I thought was the girlfriend of the disgusting neighbor of mine, is actually her ex-husband who lives in a separate apartment; the one next door and downstairs from mine.  How convenient.  I saw her doing men's shirts in her laundry.  I guess he's got the best of both worlds.  Not having to live with his ex, but she gets to do everything for him...still.  She did mention something about kids she had.  I just thought to myself, how could she even get near a smoking, tobacco spitting person let alone have kids with him? 

I believe he was in the military in his younger years because he always has the American flag stuck into a few of his large, potted plants on his patio.  These planters are so large in those huge plastic containers, which are so heavy with all that dirt plus large plants.  Evidently, he didn't know about no more than five plants on the patios.  Luckily, he's on the first floor, so the plants are on his concrete patio. 

He is also a neat freak.  He sweeps all of the downstairs walkways and stairs.  Everything in its place and every place has a thing in it, especially in these small apartments. 

His ex-wife was in the washing machines before me and as she took all of her things out of the washers she took a paper towel and cleaned all over the outside of the washers and inside too.  Boy, she probably was and still is living in a military fashion when I saw that.  Once in a while I'll hear him come back from his ex's apartment swearing f--- this or f---- that.  I guess he even gets to fight with her and leave to his own abode.  How convenient is that?  He's got the best of both worlds.

I thought he was on vacation because I saw his newsletter and calendar in front of his front door on the ground days after it was delivered.  I knew he wouldn't have any such disorder around his apartment, so that's why I thought he was on vacation.  Who knew he was away and hopefully will come back and not to be on a permanent vacation, if you know what I mean, although I feel sorry for his ex because now she'll have to be his nursemaid.

While waiting for my laundry to finish, another lady came in to see how many people were in line waiting for the washers and dryers.  She looked like she was drunk.  Her long, grey hair wasn't combed, maybe in days, from the looks of it.  Her clothes hung from her, very wrinkled and at first, I thought she was a homeless person seeking refuge.  Her eyes and the linings of her lids were bright pink in color.  Maybe she had an illness.  When she spoke, she spoke slurred, but she did talk very coherent, so maybe she had some illness.  It's very sad sometimes seeing some of these unkempt, ill, old people.  Now that I've lived in the places two and a half years, I'm getting to know how these places operate.  They let people die in these apartments, even though everybody hears them dying.  I also found out from the talkative lady that hospices are places you can go and die and are free.  So the one downstairs from me who died could have saved everybody in these apartments a lot of grief and went to die somewhere else for free, but chose to let everybody hear her dying breath. 

Everybody has their ills and complaints, and many about other neighbors.  If I was the manager here, I'd have a lot of stories to write a book.

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