Oh, We’re All So Angry, Aren’t We?

On the heels of the last post about getting along, I thought I’d mention another group of people who don’t want to play nice. Each for different reasons…

Remember my former landlord? You know, the ones who lost their lease and thought that they might kick us out of our previous house whenever they pleased? Yeah, those guys. Remember how they were completely ticked that we didn’t want to wait for them to spring the move date on us so we decided to move at the end of last month? Uh huh. Then there was the thing about their church and how they couldn’t move until services were over late Sunday afternoon and we had to wait in the front yard with all of our stuff until they got their act together and fully moved out so we could move in.

It turns out that they’re not fond of us.

Yeah, it’s shocking to me as well.

The funny thing is that they really should like us right about now considering that they took almost a month to submit a change of address with the Post Office. And I have some pretty juicy mail sitting here that they might like to read. I stopped by the old digs today to see if they had any of our old mail, but rather than answer the door our former landlord retreated to a back bedroom to play the drums. Yep, drums. Couldn’t hear the knocking on the door, you see. After the fact.

Then there’s the story of a couple individual haters who are hating friends of mine who they happen to be married to (is this the season, or what?). What’s especially loathsome about these particular individuals is their histories of prior violence. I haven’t heard of any recent incidents, but I fear that neither of my friends would tell me if it was actually occurring. You see, I don’t like that very much, and while I’m smaller in stature than the, erm, gentlemen who are the subjects of my ire, I think my friends believe (and with good reason) that I would do something stupid if they let loose their secret.

It’s only a hunch though. I can’t substantiate any of it, just the creepy feeling I get.

I don’t really dislike my former landlord. I actually pity him more than I harbor any resentment. He decided to be an anal-retentive knucklehead and it bit him in that aforementioned private area. Those bad guys though, The husbands who treat the women—my friends—who loved them like so much furniture and much worse, well…

That’s something else entirely.

– bob