Winter Warfare

“People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.”~ Anton Chekhov

Welcome to 2018, everyone!

It is mid-January, which means just a few days until my next birthday. And also time for a new blog post. Since there were none in December.

If you have been keeping up with recent weather events, you’ll know that a majority of the United States of America is pretty darn cold right now. Including right here in Austin!!

As a matter of fact, the entire city has been shut down. Monday was a federal holiday and Tuesday’s weather got really cold. A TRUE winter time here in Austin. It was going to be a shorter week, but due to the fact that temperatures were way below zero, and there was the threat of freezing rain/sleet/ice/snow, Austin just basically said “Screw it! We’re closed.”

Now it is Wednesday. Here at the SGC, we’ve not had much in the way of events since Thursday because staff chickened out and left early last Friday. But today, Wednesday the 17th, staff returned. The doors were open.

And glory glory hallelujah…. for most of us, that meant free hot coffee and something to kill the monotony!! I took advantage of it because I have been suffering cabin fever really bad.

But the temperatures are below 20°F/-6°C this morning with the promise of getting up above freezing sometime this afternoon.

Here I was this morning though, triple layers up top and single layer below. And suddenly I realized I am not the brightest bulb. But I got to the coffee before what I thought would be a mad scramble.

The usual “suspects” were already in the building. A meeting of the slow minds, if you will. Which is nothing against them, it is what it is.

As I sat there enjoying the warm cup of life, another woman walked in screaming at the top of her lungs, inquiring if anyone in the room had the flu.

To me that didn’t make sense. These are mostly elderly people. What in the world would make her think that anyone would be out of their homes if they were stricken with the flu? How many of them would honestly have the strength to get out of their homes if they were sick to begin with??

But there she was, insisting on answers in the most obnoxious way. Hanging around the door way with her mask on her face.

When nobody proclaimed to be ill, she removed the mask and made her way to the nearest available chair to sit in.

Minutes later she got up and left, only to return to start shouting again. This time she inquired about who was doing their laundry. And one of the slower neighbors said that he had something going on.

She cried out, “It’s done!”

The gentleman thanked her for her notice and went back to his conversation and coffee.

This pissed off the woman.

She cried out again, “Go get it so I can put my things in the machine.”

To which he responded with “I’ll get it here in a minute.”

And that was not good enough for her. He had already acknowledged what she had said to him. But like I said, he’s a bit slow. So it wasn’t like he was going to leap up from where he was sitting and skip merrily into the laundry room to change his clothes from the washer to the dryer. He just was in no hurry at all. And she was!

His lacking response caused the fight bell to ring as she literally shouted and screamed at him. “I need that machine NOW!!”

She was met with the same response of acknowledgement and the promise to get the progression moving “…in a minute.”

There was an eerie silence. I looked up and found her face turning a deep red.

She then left once more to go back into the laundry room, and she mumbled under her breath (loud enough for me to hear) that she was just going to do it FOR him. And that meant removing his clothes and discarding them elsewhere to where they were out of her way. And this was also going to be mean that she was not going to be all that concerned with where she put them, as long as they were free and clear of the washing machine that she wanted to use.

But her own physical capabilities are extremely limited due to her morbid obesity. So she realized that she wouldn’t have the stamina to go through with it.

She did the next best thing: Tattled on the guy with the one staff member present.

Staff came into the room to make a general “announcement” that when laundry machines are finished working that residents need to take care of it, so that the machines are open and available for other residents to use. It was also said that the apartment manager would be informed of this altercation when he arrived.

I think that was the appropriate response from staff.

The woman walked out into the hallway with an evil smirk on her face, realizing that she got her way. And the man who was slow in all senses of the word, attempted his best to get up from his chair so that he could go switch his laundry from washer to dryer. It did in fact, take him quite some time to get up to his feet and move towards the door. And she just couldn’t stand it any more.

She verbally attacked as he limped by her. And from what I think, she lost the upper hand when she followed him outside, berating him every slow, limping step of the way.

I was on my way out the door myself after finishing my cup of coffee and what happened next hasn’t happened since the great  Strawberry Milk Fight of 2011.

Oh Yes Indeed!!!

To put it plainly, he had enough of her shit talking and he retaliated with a physical vengeance. And due to her own physical shortcomings, she didn’t have a chance.

The battle was swift. And it left her retreating back inside as he continued his way to the laundry room to switch his laundry. The last words I heard was him in frustration as he walked into the laundry room grumbling, “Damn Fucking Bitch!”

Yeah, don’t let the fact that the elderly are cute fool you at all. Especially not around here.

The $102 Pack of Cigarettes

Last year, the only son of an elderly neighbor of mine was pounding on my front door relentlessly late at night at the most ridiculous of hours.

I knew who it was, and I knew what he had wanted. This 16 year old son was wanting me to go to the corner store and buy him a pack of cigarettes.

After realizing that he just wasn’t going to go away, he said that he had the money in his pocket and I told him to prove it to me.

He dug deep into his pockets and pulled out two fists full of loose change. Including a collection of at least eight Walking Liberty Half Dollars and other assorted quarters and nickels.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Was he absolutely serious about handing over these old coins? All of them were minted in around the years of the World War II era. The majority of them were from 1944. He had one that was from 1941, and another from 1946.

It was ridiculous. I asked him if he knew what he was doing and if he knew how much these old coins were worth. He said he didn’t know and didn’t care. He had recently gone to the corner store himself to buy something else, but the store clerk refused to accept them. So he was trying to get rid of them.

So, I was no idiot. This was the one time that I went ahead and did this for him. Besides, the rest of the change I needed so that I could do some laundry to have clean clothes. I took all of his change and kept it to myself and paid for it out of my own pocket. The transaction was complete and we never spoke of it again. I hid those half dollars like it was the Holy Grail itself.

Time went on, his father (my neighbor) passed away. And he moved away to live with some guardians. Up until two days ago where he came knocking on my door, his skateboard in hand. He came in and sat down and talked his face off, complaining about his social life and how terrible things had become since he lost his father. It truly is a sad situation for him.

And then he brings up the conversation about his massive half dollar collection. Apparently, he went to some coin and silver shop and traded in what he had left over. He told me the story about how he had received about $150 for his coins. And he was really getting excited as he continued to tell his tale.

Then… it hit. The real, deep-down reason as to why he was here visiting with me. Because of the fact that he got so much money for those silver coins AND that he had blown all that money in one day… he wanted those coins back.

Umm, NO. It was part of a transaction.

So I told him, “Do you have a pack of cigarettes because that’s what YOU bought with those coins?”. Obviously, he wasn’t going to have any!! So I turned him away empty handed.

I knew the value of those coins were far more than just fifty cents. And he received his smokes. So those coins now belonged to me. But he kept insisting until I just told him that I didn’t have them any more.

Out the front door, he stormed off. He said that he would be back later to see if I had put my hands on those coins again since “I stored them at the house of my parents who live two states away.”

This afternoon, I too went to the same coin and silver store as he and traded in all the coins that I found in my safe place. With the loose quarters and nickels that I had and then used for laundry, added to what I received from the silver store for selling the coins, that pack of Marlboro Lights 100’s was worth a grand total of  $102.68!!!

Now clearly he did not understand the value. And he should have thought things through. But at his young age, all he was doing was focusing on what he wanted at that exact time and moment. So let it be a lesson to him. Although he’ll probably never learn because he’ll never know. I sure hope he smoked those things SLOWLY.. but I doubt that he did.

Also let it be a lesson to those who read this. There are reasons why people collect old coins. This would be one of the reasons.

And now I will be able to do laundry for at least the next six months.