The bonus is… our upstairs neighbor and his new, live-in Bitch Girlfriend (BGF) who have been antagonizing us for several months have to move out! The new owner – a girl just a few years older than us – and her friend are moving into their apartment. This rules on several levels. First, I’ve always wanted to get to know the new owner better – she’s lived down the street, and we always say we should hang out, but never do.
Second, the BGF really sucks. It’s all about The Parking. Our driveway holds four cars – two up front, and two behind them. There’s also space for a car parallel to the street at the edge of the yard. Usually, Shawn parks there and I park in the driveway, because when one is behind the other, we always end up blocking each other in. I don’t know or care how Upstairs Neighbor and BGF do it.
I think the origin of the parking problem was actually the fault of Co-Host Kim. Soon after BGF moved in, before I even got to say hello, Kim came over after our talk show to discuss a problem with her personal life. She parked in the space for BGF’s car, next to mine. But by the time I realized it, Kim was already in my living room, spilling her guts and very, very upset. I didn’t have the heart to interrupt her and tell her to move her car, so I figured if the neighbor came home, we’d just go move Kim’s car, or she’d ask us to. No big deal.
Well, the neighbor blocked Kim in. When Kim (unknown to me) went upstairs to see if she’d move it, I guess things got a little tense. Okay, a lot tense, because the next thing I know, Kim was tearing down the road with BGF screaming, “BITCH!” after her. I was afraid to introduce myself after that.
Oh, did I mention Kim and Shawn are both blond, and both drive black Accords? I think BGF just assumed they were the same person, and has been a passive-aggressive pain in the ass since. Shawn and Jamie vs. BGF!
Every time I come home, she vacuums. I don’t know what she thinks she’s doing, because the place is freaking concrete – at worst, it’s a quiet hum downstairs. I can hear her smacking the vacuum against furniture, but again, it translates is soothing thuds. Edge: Shawn and Jamie
She tried to feed my cat. I can’t tell you how pissed off this made me, because it was followed by another neighbor implying that we don’t feed her. Dude, she was so fat we put her on a diet. Even so, she’s an 80% outdoor cat – she pretty much just comes inside to eat, cool down, and get some loving. That’s just the way Miss Budina was built. But shortly after BGF moved in, a bowl of food appeared on OUR porch. Of course, it was promptly filled with ants. I waited for BGF’s ass to fucking clean up that mess, and if she put out another bowl to be turned into an edible ant farm, she was going to receive a strongly worded note, yessirree. She never put out more food. Edge: Shawn and Jamie
(BGF works in a local pharmacy. One time, when Shawn and I saw her there, I walked by loudly saying, “Well, we’d better buy some CAT FOOD! I mean, if it wasn’t for some stranger putting bug-infested food on the porch, our cat won’t have eaten for WEEKS! We’re so forgetful, what with not feeding OUR OWN CAT!”)
However, much to my chagrin, Miss Budina will still occasionally hang out on their porch. Edge: BGF.
BGF is just MEAN. I heard her once screeching, “Get the FUCK in the house!!” I don’t know who or what she was addressing, and was afraid to find out. She’s extremely rude and crabby. So of course, since I’m a little shit, every time I see her as I leave for work, I smile brightly and say, “Good morning!” in my most chipperbitch voice. She always, always looks shocked that I address her in a friendly manner (as her rude ass would be), then just kind of grunts or nods or something. Edge: Jamie and Shawn.
They are really touchy and out of control on the parking issue. I don’t even know what they’re talking about half the time. A couple of weekends ago, Shawn and I did our typical – hang out together all weekend, and go swimming or boating or dancing. In and out, but with each other and always aware of who’s in our apartment, making sure the damn driveway isn’t blocked. (Because, yes. After all their meanness, I still try to be a good neighbor and stay out of their way. It’s a disease.) After this weekend of fun, relaxation, and non-driveway-blocking, I walked by my car on Sunday afternoon and noticed a small slip of paper under my windshield wiper. It said, in crooked printing, “Please Don’t Block Our Driveway.” Uh, what? I was there all weekend. The damn driveway was wide open. Someone needs a new dose of Lithium. I threw the note away and gave their front steps the finger. Edge: Jamie and Shawn.
They have the smaller apartment. Edge: Jamie and Shawn.
Our cat smells better than their dog. Edge: Jamie and Shawn.
THEIR ASSES HAVE TO MOVE OUT AND WE DON’T. Big Fat Edge: JAMIE AND SHAWN.
