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Updates From Golf School Dorm Central And Why I Will Punch Someone In The Nose...

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Monday, May 18, 2009

Updates From Golf School Dorm Central And Why I Will Punch Someone In The Nose...

Over the weekend, there was a bit of an incident at the apartment complex which shall now be forever deemed as Golf School Dorm Central. There are so many golf students in our building that my neighbors and I have been losing our mind. The constant parties. The drunk screaming up and down the halls. The manly "bitch fights" outside at night. The scattered fast food littered in the hallways that brings the bugs. The multiple garbage bags of beer cans everywhere. This isn't even counting the spagetti and toilet paper in the bushes or the cat calls from each other's balconies. Seriously, it's enough to drive someone crazy.

We have a courtesy officer on premises and, while I do call him and have his number on speed dial, I still don't want to be the crazy old lady with the cardigan on the porch pounding my cane screaming "YOU G.D. WHIPPERSNAPPERS". I am trying to be nice (tho I wish Wiggy would lift his leg on a couple of them). Saturday night there was a scuffle about 3:00 in the morning. I won't call the courtesy officer past 1 am and figured it was more of their drunk shenanigans. See, the idiots in 312 are also "golf students" or, to quote someone in mgmt., someone who doesn't have to worry since mommy and daddy are footing the bill. One of them got drunk once and decided that since I took a parking space he wanted, then he had the right to call me the "C" word. My response was to berate him when he was sober. He's been respectful towards me ever since. Anywhoo - I digress. The point is - at 3ish, I heard the drunken b.s. coming from the direction of his apartment and the elevators. Eeehhh - Orlando's in the playoffs so I figured that it is what it is. That was until I heard *BAM* and it sounded like someone punched something pretty damn hard. Then more drunken b.s. Eeehh - whatever. I rolled over and went to sleep. I kept hearing bells in my sleep like the elevator opening and closing but figured that I was hearing things.

Crazy early Sunday morning, Wiggs is *poke poke poke* and doing his little "Mah I Gotta PEEEEEE" dance on the bed and making a mad dash for the door, giving me 2 minutes to get dressed. When he gets like this, I know there is no opportunity to roll over and resign myself to dealing with the early wake up call. I go to walk him and, as we get to the elevator, the door is opening and shutting, acting all crazy and I see what the *BAM* from the night before was: those sons of @*@*@* BROKE THE ELEVATOR PANEL - straight out punched it open Plastic and parts were scattered. It was a hot mess.

Now remember, when Wiggs first moved in, he had an insane fear of stairs and heights. He won't even go ON the balcony and trying to get him near the stairs - forget it. My guess is someone either dropped him as a pup from a huge height or played keep away at the college where he lived with his first owner who was too young to even take care of him. You can't even pick him up without him freezing and demanding "DOWN". It took six months of coaxing trying to teach him to trust me and that he no longer needed to hug the walls as he was walking.

Knowing that we couldn't use the elevator, I had to think quick and scooped him up, put him on my shoulder and trotted down the stairs. The dog had a massive panic attack. To go back upstairs - it was the same. Three times yesterday I did that, in the rain, etc. as I tried to console him and tell him what a brave boy he was. He would fight me trying to convince me that "Momma - we use elevator" but maintenance had already shut it down. There was no elevator and I kept telling him to be a big boy and trust me. It broke my heart to see him pawing at the elevator door, hugging it so I couldn't pick him up and make him walk up those bad stairs. Utterly heartbreaking - and the sounds coming from him, it was frightening - like he was hyperventilating.

I was PRAYING that I'd run into one of those fools from 312 because, even if it wasn't them - they are liable for the actions of their guests. In ONE day, by their dumb action of punching out the elevator panel and rendering it useless resulted in the undoing of SIX MONTHS of training my dog to trust me. In ONE day, my dog is now TERRIFIED to go outside should he fall while going down the stairs. In ONE day, their stupidity has affected EVERYONE in our building - especially the person on the second floor that uses a wheelchair, the mother of toddlers that has to now carry their stroller downstairs, plus her young children. Not to mention their utter lack of respect for their neighbors and our community.

As I told the complex manager today quite frankly I will not hold my tongue when I see any of those three fools. I'm pretty upfront as you all know and, as I joked with my friends, I will make those three azzhats cry by the time I'm through AND recommend that they move when the lease is out. If they don't like it, tough. I'll just whap them with my cane.

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Posted by Lys :: 6:15 PM :: 7 comments

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