Thursday, May 23, 2013

"I'm the one who's suffering here!"

Finally it seems like someone is interested in our crappy little hole of a garden, so I made the trek out to the garden club today to show it to her.  Upon entering the garden I knew I was going to face some trouble from the neighbor who lives next door.  The weeds were mostly about knee-high.  Last year he freaked out because a couple of little sprigs of oats and wheat came up between our rows of plants, this year the whole garden is full of so-called weeds. 

What was my greeting?  A hollered "When is your husband coming?"  My answer?  "I don't know."  Neighbor who lives there, aka drunken truck driver, kept increasing his volume and angry tones, demanding to know when we are planning to weed the garden, threatening to get us in trouble with the board (ooooh!), yelling at me that HE'S the one who's suffering from OUR weeds.  Pardon my French, but what the f$/§)`?  If that makes you suffer, then something is wrong.  He continued harassing me, demanding to know if we'd picked up our bill for the yearly lease, if my husband had informed the club of our new address and all I could say is that I don't know.  Because I don't.  And I really don't care.  I have enough other things to deal with, and that stupid garden was and is not my baby.  I hated it for 2 years and never want to see it again.  I tried to love it, and I did like the vegetables and the flowers, but the garden itself?  No thanks.  I told him repeatedly that I have nothing to do with the garden, and finally yelled "THIS GARDEN IS NOT MY PROBLEM!" and stalked off.  He continued yelling even after I was out of sight.

I would love to add my entire vocabulary of expletives and a few new ones for good measure here, explaining exactly how I feel about the situation in the garden this afternoon, but that wouldn't make the situation any better.  It would just make me look stupid and immature, and that's not what I want. I'm not usually a screaming, foul-mouthed emotional mess, but some things can push me in this direction.

Normally, I'm pretty relaxed, patient, and can keep my cool even in ridiculous situations.  There are not many people who can drive me to yelling, I can think of 3 or 4, and drunken truck driver who lives in the garden colony is now among their ranks.  So congratulations, drunken truck driver, that's quite an achievement.  And have fun dealing with my firing squad.  If you harass me, I will release the wrath of Sauer Kraut upon you.  You got a little taste of that on the phone this evening.  Enjoy. 

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