In For a Penny, In For a Pound

Believe it or not, other than that business of skimming equipment at the corner gas station, and possibly the market, it’s been a quiet uneventful week here at the complex.

With Little Stalker back in San Diego, expected not to return until March, and with Red Light being careful not to aggravate whatever is wrong with her foot by climbing stairs again anytime soon, there’s been no one interrupting my aloneness, no one knocking on my door, other than delivery personnel.

So, it’s been a peaceful week of the Three C’s — cleaning, cooking, crafting.

Other than the C’s, I’ve been destroying property.

Needing a new vacuum to replace my dying Eureka, and seeing Dyson cordless selling for hundreds off, I sprung for one.

It came with the option to recharge with a cord or to wall mount the charger.

I didn’t care for the vacuum leaning against the wall or side of the refrigerator — too expensive to risk a fall, so I drilled rather large holes in the walls, inserted drywall anchors, screws and voilà.

Problem is, I don’t like the placement so far off the floor or with all that empty space between it and the refrigerator. So, the plan is to tear everything out of the wall, drill new holes, reposition, fill in the old holes.

Next inspection, when management sees the Dyson hanging from the wall, and maybe not so invisible filled in holes, MANAGEMENT IS GOING TO KILL ME. Or at least want to.

They’ll probably reissue the notice reminding us residents will be charged $85 per 1x1 sized hole.

What with medal holders in the living room, various artwork hanging in the hallway and decorative rugs on the walls in both the bedroom and living room, I’m already on the hook for a small fortune with 42 holes — four of which are of the $85 variety, drywall anchors and screws it took to hang two Michonne of Walking Dead swords in the bedroom, and now four more anchors and screws for the Dyson tearing up the walls it’s like that saying ………… in for a penny in for a pound.

At any rate, they can’t charge me until I move or die, at which time they’ll bill the family.

Maybe, along with important papers for family upon my demise, I should include an envelope with cash estimating the cost and a note to management — "sorry about the holes".

Suspicion and Distrust are Good

Back in November, I’d blogged about how one of the Sikhs that own and operate the gas station at the corner had thought it funny to cough and then back hand waive his germs towards me.

One comment was "You are a brave soul to go into a gas station store and pay for your gas. I use my credit card", to which I replied "It's dangerous to use cards around here as crooks set up gadgets to read cards. We're warned to check for gadgets first, but I don't know what to look for, so I play it safe and pay cash".

So, it looks like my now suspicious and distrustful nature served me well, because Red Light called late last night, asking me to create a flyer for something I said no to because I felt it wasn’t in our bailiwick.

What she wanted was a flyer warning resident to not use their credit or county issued electronic cards for purchases at the corner gas station, because Dream Lover and Complex Manager both had their cards skimmed.

Dream Lover got taken for $900; Complex Manager (CM) "lost her whole paycheck".

Inasmuch as Red Light had suggested CM put out a warning notification to residents, which CM had not only refused to do but ordered Red Light and Dream Lover to "not talk about it with others" (that was nervy of CM), Red Light was incensed, said "She (meaning CM) won’t do anything to protect us around here, and she won’t let us protect ourselves" and was taking it upon herself to put out a flyer/warning notification.

When I said no, to let word of mouth handle it, Red Lights said, "I’ll make one up myself".

I doubt it, because she doesn’t want to get into any more trouble with management than she’s already in. Besides, her modus operandi is to stand quietly in the background while cajoling and manipulating others into doing her dirty work.

No doubt, word of mouth will keep others around here from being victimized, but I feel for the many other clueless victims stopping into the station for gas and snacks, and made a point of calling Twin 2, telling her not to use her card for gas at that location.

Once word does hit the grapevine, I imagine folks will be sympathetic to Dream Lover, but CM’s loss will be viewed as karma for being so mean to us.

After hearing Dream Lover used his card inside, and CM used hers at the pump, I’m now suspicious of it being an inside job, because how did someone attach the credit card skimmer to the machine on the counter when there’s always someone working at the counter, which now makes my suspicious and distrustful nature to amplify. I am now worried about using the ATM inside the market.

Can’t trust anyone, anyplace, anytime.

UPDATE: Before I’d had time to proofread and post the above, I had to leave for this morning’s workout and, before I even got to the car, I learned the grapevine had been hard at work overnight.

Our Boebert character — little miss don’t take my picture at bingo because I’ve got a lawsuit going, approached me with "Did you hear about the skimming at the 7-Eleven?"

When I returned from the workout, two other residents approached and warned me about the skimming.

No need for a flyer at all.

I was almost late to the workout, because Boebert was unloading, and I was interested in what she had to say.

"Pray for me" said she, because CM was ordering her to get rid of her cat.

"Why? It’s an indoor cat" asked I.

Though she had the cat when she moved in, at which time having the cat was approved by the previous manager and is on her lease, our current CM is saying Boebert has to supply a "companion letter" from her doctor and her doctor won’t give her such a letter.

I’ve never heard of such a thing. Besides, plenty of residents have cats and dogs, but Boebert said she’s being told they all have submitted "companion letters".

I don’t know if I believe that, so I suggested she check with the individuals that have pets and check her lease.

"THIS HAS TO STOP!!!" she blurted out — meaning CM’s harassment of us residents. "I’VE ALREADY HAD TWO HEART ATTACKS. I DON’T NEED TO HAVE ANOTHER"!

Well ……… the info about heart attacks is interesting, and the way she so quickly got all red with rage was a bit terrifying and gave me an idea as to why she’s got some kind of lawsuit going on. My guess is it’s one of those Dr. Bill LaTour disability claims.

At any rate, next few days around here should be interesting as I watch the grapevine continue to wind its way in through and around.

Two Days In

Two days in and so far, so good.

I was mercifully spared from working out New Years Day by an early morning message from Trainer saying he’d opted not to open the studio that day, would see me Wednesday.

YIPEE, thought I.

Not that I don’t enjoy working out — hard and exhausting as it sometimes is, I do enjoy working out, am grateful to be able to do so because, when I feel a slump, I generally feel better after. It’s just that I sometimes resent being locked into the routine of, three days a week, having to get up at a certain time, suit up and head out.

A part of me always yearns to retreat from the world, self-isolate like so many of the seniors around here who are never seen, do not come out, and that routine — for better or worse, won’t let me give into that yearning.

At any rate, the cancellation gave me the impetus to not only get the patio decorations back into storage, but to spend the day better organizing the kitchen counter to give me more space, the kitchen cabinets — so that I can easily see what I’m looking for, rather than engaging in a frustrating hunt, and just better organize things in every room to make the rooms not seem so cluttered with stuff, without throwing out items I was sure I’d later regret tossing out, as I so often do.

Painted Rock Lady must have been sneaking around early morning New Year’s Day because, when I left the unit to head for the liquor store, play my lottery numbers, I found she’d graced my walkway with new creations.

As for the lottery, with the pot of all three games now in the millions, I couldn’t risk not playing, only to later learn I’d missed out, that my numbers had finally come up.

So, I suited up for driving to the liquor store and, on the way, looked over towards the area that is the entryway into the nice neighborhood behind us and saw the recently developing homeless encampment had disappeared.

Not too surprising since, at last Friday’s bingo, the topic of the encampment had come up. Shadow and the Baker both said they’d "called it in".

I don’t know who they called to get those folks removed, didn’t ask, but I’ve got mixed feelings about it.

It wasn’t on or in front of our complex, which made it not our problem, so why call?

The unhoused have to go somewhere and, if not causing problems, live and let live because, as the saying goes, "There but for the grace of God go I".

It was more a problem belonging to the businesses in that area, and the more prosperous living behind us, who use the area as a walking trail — all of whom I’m sure "called it in". No need for anyone here to get uptight and involved.

I myself was impressed with one of the builds.

It was constructed in such a way that allowed for a doorway, and tall enough that the occupant could stand and move around freely inside.

That's a lot of construction materials to be carting around. Wonder how he manages it.

I also wonder where the occupant relocated to.

So anyway, tomorrow marks the beginning of my personal DÉJÀ VU, when the weekly routine of everyday life begins all over again.

Heavy sigh!

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Have a Happy Healthy Safe Problem Free Prosperous New Year!

Year-End Wrap-up

This morning was the last workout of the year.

This afternoon, the last bingo session of the year.

Trainer does not plan to take Monday — New Year’s Day off, so it’ll be the same old same old first of the year.

Next bingo game is not until January 12, so I have that time to prepare myself for interacting with the Usual Suspects for another year.

Bingo today was interesting.

First off was the seating arrangement. Complex Manager did rearrange tables and chairs back to separating us except, instead of two chairs per table, there are now four chairs.

Guess she thinks she’d being magnanimous, allow groups of four.

She also unlocked the refrigerator — just for today, so Red Light, the Baker and Homegirl could refrigerate ice cream for break time’s ice cream sundaes.

What I found that was so interesting was learning that, in addition to the three or four video cameras positioned in the room so management can keep an eye on us …… don’t ask me why because we don’t do anything but play bingo and have the occasional event, but that we’re also being voice recorded.

This I never knew.

When I was standing by the kitchen counter, asking if the refrigerator was locked. I was told Community Manager (CM) had acquiesced to allowing us to use it today, but management removed their sodas.

I made the comment "I guess so we won't steal their sodas and, excuse me, but I thought the refrigerator and Community Room were for the Community, not for management’s sodas and lunches". Whereupon Homegirl told me to whisper because they were listening to us.

The way she found out was that CM told Red Light she didn’t appreciate something Homegirl had said about her. Homegirl knew what she’d said, when and where she’d said it — in the kitchen while she and Red Light were preparing something for the seniors.

Homegirl is not one to take crap or back down. According to her, she strode right over to CM’s office, told her she didn’t have to eavesdrop, that’s she’d tell CM to her face how she feels about her; and further, that if she (CM) has a beef with her (Homegirl) to keep Red Light out of it, come directly to her.

Being called out thusly, she (CM) won’t have anything to say about what she’s overheard while eavesdropping on us again. In future, she’ll keep it to herself or complain to other staffers.

There’s really nothing she can do about the fact everyone hates her, except to work on being a better human — which doesn't seem likely.

I myself don’t have an issue with her — probably because she and I have limited contact; and I often tell others that as bad as they think she is, we’ve had worse. That this CM doesn’t even come close to the horror of the years we suffered under Nurse Ratched.

The other interesting thing to happen in bingo involved our Boebert character.

I’d seen her a few days ago, walking down the street, going in a direction that made me wonder to myself "Where’s she going?"

Heading to this morning’s workout, there she was again, crossing the street, heading in a direction where there’s nothing but a redneck bar and a hole in the wall food establishment.

Inasmuch as she seems to be on a schedule — seen walking that way, backpack on her back when I'm on my way to work out, I began to think perhaps she's working a part time job in one of the two places.

Maybe not, because she was seated at bingo when I arrived an hour or so later.

So, anyway, she has this thing that, when she wins a bingo game, she doesn’t allow me to take her photo for the resident’s website.

No problem I except, she posed for photos at the Christmas party.

So, when she won a bingo game today, I went to take her photo. She held up her hand and said "No!"

"So we’re back to that" said I. Whereupon, she whispered in my ear, "I have a workman’s comp lawsuit".

Okaaaay, but how does that compute when I see you walking down the street like a normal healthy person, headed who knows where, open to those you surmise might be observing you, hired to catch you faking whatever it is you’re alleging, can take all the photos they need, but you can’t be seen playing bingo.

I'm not buying it.

I may have to check the Most Wanted sites to see if something other than a "lawsuit" is at play.

I also learned a decision has been made on the county's approval of that $500 rent increase for those here living on the county roll.

Red Light tells me the county is paying the entire $500 for her, but others are not so fortunate.

For instance, Buttons — our 86-year-old, is required to come up with an additional $200 a month. The county will pay only $300 — something about being based on income.

It doesn't appear to any of us that Buttons can come up with an additional $200, and we’re guessing many others are in the same boat as Buttons — the same or similar amounts.

This is how seniors become homeless. It's a choice between food, medication or rent.

Seeing something like this is scary and depressive, as none of us can be assured of what might happen to us in the future.

Bingo today was good to me. I won twice.

First game, I chose an olive oil decanter from the prize table.

My second win was the Blackout Game, which meant I got to choose a prize from the big table. I chose a blender, as the top on my Ninja Blender has been giving me grief.

As for where such a prize came from, the Talker — being a big spender at the casino, is often given entertainment packages, which she keeps, attends the concerts; and big-ticket items, such as this 10-speed blender, immersion blenders, air fryers, etc., which she donates to the Blackout prize table.

Leaving bingo, heading back to my unit, I thought to check the callbox, see if Meat Man's name was still listed as a resident. Though I am 99.99 percent certain he no longer lives here, and that his leaving has something to do with the Laundry Room break-ins, he is still listed as a resident of that unit.

Lastly, there was a knock knock knock on the door this evening.

It wasn’t Red Light.

I actually don’t have to worry about her climbing stairs anytime soon, because her foot is acting up again. In fact, she was limping during bingo, saying she’d be heading for Urgent Care directly after.

This time it was my Little Stalker.

So there you have it — last workout of the year, last bingo game, probably last tale to be told of the complex for this year.

The Day After

So that was a short respite.

I’d prepared and planned to stay in Long Beach through Christmas Day, return today Tuesday, with the caveat that, if I was having a good time, I’d extend the stay.

As it were, the great grandson opened his gifts 7:30 Christmas morning, after which I did an early checkout of the hotel and was back in my unit at the complex by noon.

Long Beach was a drag.

I did not get the Harbor View Room I’d requested ─ the side of the hotel with a view of the Queen Mary. Instead, I ended up with a view of a restaurant’s alley. Which might have been cool had anything interesting happened in the alley, but all I saw was restaurant linen being piled up and the occasional worker running through.

Energy in the area has shifted. The streets were relatively empty ─ nothing interesting to see, to do. No longer safe to walk around visiting old haunts due to an explosion of the unhoused.

Driving down the street, I spotted a house all decorated for Christmas. The house had a chain-link fence separating the property from the sidewalk and in a little area right next to where their fence ended, right up against it, was where an unhoused person had erected his living quarters.

Passing the Covenant Manor retirement complex, along the entire outside perimeter of the fence were the unhoused.

When checking out early at the hotel, I saw an unhoused individual walk in, stride right over to the coffee bar, help himself to a cup of coffee, go to exit the hotel, stop in the door to yell something I couldn’t make out, exit, walk across the street, disappear down an alley.

The hotel did have a security person stationed at the desk ─ first time I’ve seen that ─ which tells me they’ve had some problems, but he’d stepped away. Was returning just as the unhoused gent had yelled whatever it was he’d yelled and was walking away.

With extra time on my hands Christmas Eve, having decided it wasn’t safe to walk down to the Big Penny selfie site, get a photo I’d been wanting to take during previous visits but never got around to, I drove over to the site.

Seeing the old guy camped out front .... for why? I didn't dare get out of the car to try to take a selfie. Not to mention, capture an image of the penny's flipside because, if you look closely to the right, you'll see the legs of one of two guys I spied lurking suspiciously behind the penny.

Long Beach has changed ─ a drag and a downer.

Long Beach was not a complete drag and downer, as I did get to see the new baby girl.

Even got to hold her for a hot second.

However, a hot second was all that was allowed because, with so many people granddaughter and grandson-in-law know learning later rather than sooner ─ before they were around others, thereby jeopardizing the health of others, that they have covid, the two are being extra cautious of who comes into their atmosphere as the baby does not yet have immunities.

I was the only person allowed to visit since the new baby was born; the only person allowed to spend Christmas with them. Everyone else has to wait until March, when the new baby will be four months old, and her immunities have taken hold. That included White Grandma, White Grandpa, the Black uncles.

Though I’d been boosted and, knowing I'd be around little ones had taken the extra precaution of a home test before heading to Long Beach, I was yet and still limited to look, but don’t touch — other than the hot second I was allowed to hold the little princess. I wasn’t even allowed to kiss all on the great-grandson as I usually do.

So, after watching the great-grandson open his gifts, no place safe to go, nothing safe to do, no kissing, no holding, I headed back to the hotel, packed, checked out early and drove myself home.

Traffic was easy breezy going up and returning but, because of my gut issues, there's so much preparation involved in travel, and my being so stressed with worry about what could happen as I’m behind the wheel on a long drive since that tire blew out on the freeway, that I don’t think I can do this again.

It's just too much work and, with my being on edge during the drive up and back, going anywhere further than a few miles away is just too exhausting.

So, unless I win the lottery and can employ my own personal driver, this last trip may be my last trip.

First Look

First and Last hot second hold.

The great-grandson was gifted (spoiled) with way too many toys for an 18-month-old.

Included in the gifts from his parents was a pair of toy binoculars and a spy glass, which he instinctively seemed to know how to use.

Shades of having picked up his GG’s propensity for observing others perhaps, LOL.

I'm also told he likes to hide behind doors, jump out, try to scare his parents.

They don't know where he learned that, but believe it may be inherited, because that was something I did through my early years, well into adulthood, and still enjoy watching TikTok videos of people scaring other people.

For sure, the great-grandson doesn't seem to have inherited my adventurous nature, like when I jumped right on the Santa Train at the Breakfast with Santa Event and was ready to ice skate until I thought how an injury could end me, because great-grandson wasn't quick to accept the Mickey Mouse airplane, with all its unfamiliar bells and whistles, as being his forte.

His parents say, from how he was at first fearful of the exercise ball in the room, but has now embraced it, that he has to first observe certain items, get accustomed to before he trusts, and will send me vid when he does.

So, while he was somewhat alarmed by all the bells, whistles, spinning, I positioned myself to where I could take a spin around the room without putting my full weight on his toy (no vid to show you).

I also couldn't wait to try the spaceship he'd acquired since my last visit.

Ready for Take Off

He seemed none too pleased, like what the hell daddy.

So, though Long Beach was a drag and a downer, no kissing, no hugging, look but don't touch, I managed to have a fun time and got to play with the great-grandson's toys.