Timing

Despite my neurotic discomfort of conventional grocery stores, I strode boldly into my local Smart and Final Warehouse which offers only everything in bulk.  Sure it was a stupid place for a single gal to shop (who needs 16 frozen pizzas in one package?), but I was on a mission!

#1:  Cecilia (my car) was out of windshield wiper fluid and not really safe to drive in her current condition after our recent rains as creepy brown goop was busily scumming itself all over her windshield.

#2:  I was seriously hoping that a two block walk might help me clear my allergies.

#3:  Suffering from the allergies, I really wanted some non-dairy food in the house that wouldn’t turn my stomach or provoke any unpleasant gagging.

SCORE!!!

With a shopping cart almost equivalent to the size of my actual car, I angled in line with my ‘jug-o-glass-cleaner’ bobbling around like a toddler who hadn’t yet fully grown a neck, a bottle of voddy (that looked painfully tiny compared to the windshield wiper fluid), a package of salami (that could feed a family of four for a month FFS) and two boxes of Mr. Clean Magic Erasers (an afterthought, should my apartment be randomly assessed by my bully Landlord).

Oh, Cecilia looked fabulous after I squirted and wiped her windshield clean!

OK, so my allergies weren’t any better, but I had supplies in the house!

And I’d even gotten to laugh out loud at a very kind and apologetic man who was attempting to purchase eight Godzilla-sized jugs of vanilla pudding with $50.00 in cash, only to find that his purchase was over $86.00, who then offered to pay the balance with his debit card.

“Would you like cash back, sir?” the friendly check-out lady offered.

“Can I do that?”

“Of course; just key in the amount on the pad” she added helpfully, as the befuddled guy entered ‘fifty’.  “And here’s your original cash back!” she laughed.

“Hakuna matata!” I giggled, as he stood looking at his cart and staring at his money.

>>><<<

8:00pm

*Knock, knock*

“I knew it; I knew it, I KNEW IT.” I rolled my eyes, thinking that I really should have cleaned the kitchen sink water spots.  After all, no one knocks on my door at night unless they have a key to the gate, and even then, they usually have the courtesy to call from the phone outside the gate.  I HAD the Mr. Clean Magic Erasers; I just didn’t anticipate the Health Department and my Landlord dropping by on a Thursday night, FFS.

*Knock, knock*

“What fresh hell is this, Mr. Yang?” I mumbled under my breath, padding in my jammies to the door, putting my voddy on a coaster and expecting the worst.  “What, I haven’t yet thrown out my Christmas boxes?  My apartment is a fire hazard?  Ooh, too many Holiday cards might erupt into spontaneous flames?” I muttered to myself irritably as I unlocked the deadbolt.

“Hi Penny, its George…  Sorry to bother you at such a weird time…”

Frankly I hadn’t seen my Landlord’s son in a few years.  I always liked him, I knew he’d moved to Hong Kong awhile back for business, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why he was standing on my doorstep with an armful of envelopes. 

“I have some bad news…”

Insert internal dialogue:  “Oh, FFS your Dad FINALLY found a way to evict me out of my RENT-CONTROLLED APARTMENT, so he can freaking DOUBLE his INCOME; and he’s too big of a WUSSY to EVICT me HIMSELF!”

“My Dad was killed in a car crash a week ago.  I just wanted to let everyone know in person.  Almost everyone in this building is like family after all these years.  Here’s a letter explaining the details and our phone numbers if you need anything fixed or repaired.”

>>><<<

Frankly, I felt like the worst human being in the world.  I was less than pond scum.  I was sub-amoeba.  I’d unknowingly mentally cursed-out a dead man in my head while looking his grieving son in the eye.

My kingdom for a nearby rock to slither under, but for the moment, a hug of sympathy would have to suffice.

>>><<<

I didn’t like my Landlord.

There. 

I said it.

If he never woke me up at 6:00am again to move my car so he could trim the neighboring bougainvillea, I’d have been OK.  (Dude, I’m on hiatus like every three weeks…)

Had he not “encouraged” me to get rid of excessive crap accumulated over the years in the Hollywood industry (which is all probably bringing a lovely price on E-Bay that I’ll never see), well, yes, I’d be fine with that too.

But seriously, threatening to shuffle my elderly cat to a shelter and put me out on the street? 

Well, that was just downright mean…

>>><<<

“I didn’t like him!” I wept on the phone to my friend (and Life Coach) Ellie Mae.  “But I feel so bad for his family!  And yet I feel a weird sense of relief at the same time that he can’t bully me anymore.  Am I an awful human being for saying that out loud?” I sobbed, waiting for God to smite me in some Biblical destruction with all due manner of pestilence, boils and frogs.  

“Unfortunately Penny” she sighed, “and I hate to break this to you” she added gently, “but on the scale of psychoses, you’re completely ordinary.”

“Hunh” I replied:  suddenly feeling comforted in the oddest way…

>>><<<

My thoughts and prayers are with the Landlord’s family during their time of mourning and the loss of a husband and father.

And as for me personally?

Well Mr. Yang, I’ll always think of you when I look at the bougainvillea!

Forever trying to make sense,

~P