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September 19, 2004
lies, vandalism, and bodily fluids
so helen and i were spending the day lying in bed watching the third season of six feet under (it's not out yet; helen bought a d.i.y. dvd on ebay) when suddenly there came a banging on our door. it was one of the neighbors. "have you been writing on my door?" he asked. and i lied, and said "no."
it all started about a month ago when new neighbors moved in next door. they were loud, or rather, they played their stereo loud. and late. and early. one saturday morning we were rudely awakened by some really thundering bass at six in the morning. banging on the walls resulted in lower volume, but not much lower. so coming home drunk one night, i grabbed a pen and wrote 'got coke?' on their door. i figured music that loud at six a.m. must be the winding down of a coke bender. and nothing happened for a while. then, leaving the house one morning, helen and i found that one of the pieces of drywall that have been sitting in the hallway had beeen moved to block our door. not a big thing, but a response, definitely. i didn't think about it again until coming home late, drunk again, when i noticed the next-door neighbors had painted over my question.
it seemed like a good idea to keep things rolling, so i went into the loft to grab a sharpie from my desk drawer. in the process of getting the marker, i stabbed my finger with an xacto. after checking that the hall was clear, i walked over to the neighbors' door and wrote 'c'mon...'. it seemed to be an antagonistic, yet gentle response. then i noticed that my finger was bleeding pretty freely. so i drew a smiley face on their door with the blood. on my way home, i gave my door a heart, also in blood. all very friendly! and nothing happened for a while, except more of the drywall-in-front-of-the-door trick now and again.
last night, both helen and i were drunk. this time, she wanted to to the drywall thing back at the neighbor. and so we did.
then today comes the knocking. and the lie. "i painted over what you wrote, and you did it again!" he said. i protested: "it wasn't me!" he was persistant, tho, and used the old cop technique of asking the same question over and over. i admitted nothing except the drywall game, claiming loud stereo as an excuse. best defense is to attack! he apologized for that, then asked again about the grafitti. i told him i did notice the heart on my door, and yes, was curious about it, but nothing more. this seemed to aggravate the neighbor. "that's blood! didn't that bother you? aren't you going to remove it?"
"i prefer not to think about it," i told him. "someone drawing a heart on my door in blood is pretty creepy," which, by that point in the conversation, it seemed to be. that appeared to stump him, as he turned around and walked away saying "no more... no more... no more."
i explained to helen the whole blood thing had just been a happy accident, which seemed to reassure her some about my state of mind.
Posted by Dead Nancy at September 19, 2004 11:10 AM
Comments
that is so awesome! i totally should have written shit in blood on our old neighbor's door. i used to fantasize filling their locks with super-glue but never had the guts to do it.
Posted by: sheri at September 20, 2004 12:47 PM
oh my
that story made me happy
and proud
and concerned
and proud
Posted by: the sister at September 21, 2004 01:11 AM
yes that bloody wanker next door with his ever-so groovy thump thump thump music - bloody hell what kind of music is that? I just imagine him with his little tea-cosie hat on in his loft swaying his daft knobhead back and forth - its a wonder how he ever got his act together to notice grafitti on his door lest shove a bloody great big piece of dry wall twice right in front of our door - what a plonker - I pray for our home to be restored again SOON.......
Posted by: wife at September 23, 2004 03:56 PM