As I mentioned in my last blog, someone that I always assumed was Jackie, had been tossing trash into our yard, mostly whenever the dogs went at each other more than usual. Then, the unimaginable started to happen, the dogs, we had two by then, began coming back into the apartment with shit on their breath. Living in NYC and being a frequent visitor to Central Park, (apparently not only New York’s playground but New York’s Toilet) this was actually not the most uncommon experience.
The shocking part about this bad breath was that it was some how coming from our back yard. I couldn’t imagine where it was coming from, and spent much time energy trying to figure out if a homeless person had somehow started living back there when we were not home. We had a doggie door and the dogs would often drag branches, or the tin cans I had become accustomed to, through the door, but imagine my shock when I came home from work one day to find they had dragged a plastic bag full of shit into the middle of the room and shredded it. The smell hit me before the sight, and I was fit to be tied. I donned rubber gloves and began cursing, fuming, picking up the pieces of the fouled blockbuster bag when I came across a signed credit card receipt. The name on the bag was unfamiliar to me, so I went up to the mailboxes to see if Dan White was a building resident. Sure enough there he was on the third floor, and if he leaned out of his apartment just right he could toss a bag into our yard. I returned to the crime scene gathered up the remainder of the mess, went up to the third floor and smeared it on Dan White’s door. Then I propped the shredded bag on the handle so it would fall into his apartment when he opened the door. I figured Mr. Dan White would clean up the mess and learn his lesson.
A few days later I bumped into the building Super in the hallway, Hugh told me what someone had done to Dan’s door, and warned me to be on the look out. Apparently Dan was known around the building as Crazy Dan, and rumor had it that he had a drug problem, and now the residents were worried that some seedy characters had gotten into the building and they were afraid. Then Hugh told me how disgusting it had been to clean up the mess. I didn’t confess right away, but I did apologize to Hugh the next day, with a very big bottle of scotch in my hand.
That's awesome!! I really enjoyed that story. Stories about neighbors are the best stories, aren't they? I have a website filled with my stories here: My Crazy Neighbor. I'd love to trade links with you. :)
Posted by: codebleu | May 14, 2005 at 01:12 AM