My Weird, Bitch Neighbor: The Reckoning

There are few things in this world that piss me off harder than being accused of something I did not do. It fucking infuriates me. The other day at work a section of the newrooms’ power went out due to a space heater that overloaded the system. The engineers got everything up and working again within 20 minutes.

The day went on. And around 2:30 I finally went out to grab some lunch when the news director called me into his office, a big smile plastered on his face.

"I heard what you did," he said grinning. I asked him what I did, and he said, "Shut down the system. Ya know, with your heater."

Folks, I do not have a heater. I’ve considered it many times as the temperature in that room hovers at 40 degrees or so, but a former News 2 employee who shall remain nameless told me of the time her heater shut down the system, so I never bothered. So, I was immediately miffed. Getting blamed for a heater that had brought me no warmth? Oh, nuh-uh.

I informed him I had no such heater. He said two people told him it was my heater. I wanted names, but he only mentioned a department. I assured him it wasn’t me, and he recommended I send out an internal note pleading my innocence. I did just that.

Because I hate nothing more than being accused of something I haven’t done. Which is why I’m pretty fucking hot right now.

I saw crazy, bitch neighbor lady this morning as I was walking Tootie. I was nearly home when her navy blue Oldsmobile came driving by. I verified it was her, and just to be a big ol’ bitch started waving furiously like we were the best of friends. She picked a drieway and turned around back toward me. She rolled down the passenger side window.

I asked if she was the woman who asked if I had a dog. She said she was. I asked her if there was something she wanted to tell me, and she said no. Then I asked her why she asked me if I had a dog and if I walked it, and she finally gave it up: I’ve been sneaking around in her mailbox.

Oh yeah, man. I’ve been digging around in her mailbox stealing her identity! I got sick of this tired identity, so I chose to steal that of a fat, red faced lady who lives five houses down from me. Brilliant plan, no?

That is what this crazy bitch accused me of. She said, "Two different people, two separate neighbors have come up to me and told me they’ve seen a girl who looks like you, with a dog who looks like that, getting in my mailbox." I must have looked like somebody slapped my mama.

I think I laughed. "I assure you I have not been in your mailbox." Then she said that there is no way two people (and she held up two fingers) could have told her the same thing and it not be true. That is when I got super pissed.

I was all, "Look lady, WHY would I mess with your mail?" That is when she dropped the bomb. Her daughter has been the victim of identity theft. She knows what can happen!

Again I defended myself by insisting I hadn’t touched her freaking mail. She replied, "Oh, I don’t have to worry about this. I’ve called the police and the postal service, and they are investigating."

I told her she was wasting everyone’s time because you can’t prove something that never happened. I hadn’t touched her mail! I asked if she was delivered a paper, and she said no. I told her the most that had ever happened was the dog picked up someone’s newspaper, and I had to take it from her and return it. That was it. But she doesn’t subscribe, so I assured her there was no way I could be mistaken for that person.

And she said, "Well, you know what you’ve done, and you have to live with that." She is lucky I didn’t hit her, I swear. So, I raised my voice.

I said, "Look, if you have a problem with me I’d appreciate it if you came to my door instead of yelling at me from the street and idling in your car. It’s really creepy. She was yelling back, "I did not! I did not do that! I asked you one question!" This is inherently false. She asked if we owned a dog and if we walked it. That is two questions. So, this bitch is accusing me of something I haven’t done and denying something I know for a fact ocured. Excellent! At least I know you’re a fucking nutjob moron, neighbor lady.

I told her to quit creeping by my house. Then I told her that she should mind to her business, and I would look after mine.

And I left. Turned around and walked back to my house. She drove up the street and turned around and came back. I guess she doesn’t want me to know where she lives, but if I’ve been stealing her mail, then wouldn’t I know that already?!

I know the best thing to do is to just let it go and not stoke this fire any further. I could give a rat’s ass what my neighbors think of me, quite frankly. Especially if their impressions are based on blatant falsehoods. Then I don’t have to make excuses for not saying hi to their crazy asses.

I would love to send everyone on our street a postcard that says, "This is the first time I’ve been in your mail. Merry Christmas!" But, of course, I won’t. I will ignore this and go about my life until the SWAT team kicks in the front door and hauls me in for a federal offense.

Oh, that is another thing. She said, "You do know that tampering with mail is a federal offense." And glared at me with the most accusatory eyes I’ve ever seen.

"Yeah, lady," I said, my temperature climbing. "That is why I don’t tamper with anyone’s mail."

Just when I think I’m over it, I find another reason to be misanthropic. Fuck her.