holiday hell

tuesday 28 december 2010
turners trash

It was three years ago today, our last Christmas together. I'd like to say that it was harassment-free, free of meanness from any quarter, but it wasn't. At least the beginning of it wasn't.

Many times in my blogs over more than two years I've mentioned the absolutely insane behavior I was subjected to by Judith the mafia-chick and Lolly the landlady, but I've written very few details about these behaviors. This is because it's so onerously difficult to write about what my animals and I had to go through. To dig all that human insanity and human ugliness out of my memory and write about it.

There was a tremendous variety of actions that Judith devised in order to torment me -- yes, torment -- over seventeen months. Most of them still await their posts in the future. It has always amazed me that someone who is so dull-witted that she can't think her way out of a paper bag, is nonetheless able to be endlessly inventive about cruelty.

By the time November of 2007 came around, she had already come up with a tremendous list of nasty things to practice on me. I guess in that November she decided that something new and fresh was in order. Certain things had already been settled, presumably, back in July: my animals and I had to leave the property by February 13, 08, while Judith and her boyfriend-on-leash would move out at the end of August 07, to their new establishment.

But Judith and leash-boy never left. The end of August came and went, and I was still being harassed. The end of September ALSO came and went, and the end of October, and the end of November, and she did not go. No matter how many times I called the landlady's lawyer and said: You told me in court she was going, and he said: I'll check into it (lawyer-speak for shove it, lady, I guess), she did not go.

About the 7th of November she came up with her fresh, new torture. Her apartment was very large, taking up most of the house. The entire time she'd lived there, 14 or 15 months, she had had her bedroom in the center of her pad, well away from my own bedroom. But now she moved it. Into the room right beside MY bedroom, with her bed on the other side of the wall from MY bed, which is to say about four inches away. Now I had to sleep beside her and her boyfriend.

I had hired a lawyer very short-term (which was all $500 of the landlady's pay-off money could buy me), and when I told him about this new development, he was very sympathetic and agreed that it was intrusive and nasty, but unfortunately the housing laws didn't allow for him to call the other lawyer and have him tell Judith to put her bed back where it had always been.

It was the last straw. I had been pushed around and lied to and stolen from and otherwise abused by these two psychotic women for a very long time. By putting her bed right next to mine, Judith had naturally found a new way to invade ME, but she'd also at last given me a way to invade her back.

And so I did. I stooped to her level because I had been mistreated too much, without any lawyer or social service agency or cop or anyone at all doing anything to help. I stooped to her level because there weren't many reasons NOT to. For six weeks, from the 8th of November to the 25th of December, I insulted her day and night. And I kept leash-boy from getting his sleep (psychotics don't NEED much sleep, so none of this bothered Judith much, but it FRIED the boy on the leash). I knew the boyfriend usually got up at 6:00 in the morning and went to bed 11:00 at night. Every morning at 5:00, I put my cordless telephone to my ear, sat in my bedroom chair, and talked at full volume. All about him, all about Judith, all about the landlady. I pretended I was yacking with a friend, and I'd do it for at least two hours, so that the boy couldn't go back to sleep before he went to work. Then I'd start again about 11 at night, when he wanted to go to sleep, and keep it up at least two hours more. I insulted them and mocked them sometimes with great big intellectual words that they couldn't even understand, and sometimes with plain old dirty words that they could understand very well. A couple of times I heard him say on the other side of the wall: Let's just move into the house and get out of here. I can only guess that Juidth's reply was No. She whispered her replies so I couldn't hear them, but they did not leave.I watched the boy go to work every morning, observing that his face grew more tired and drawn every day. And I rejoiced. Judith had interrupted my sleep almost every night for 15 months by banging on the walls or letting the dog out at 3 a.m. to bark outside my window. How did little boy like it, not being allowed by his neighbor to sleep?

On Christmas day, he must have put his dainty foot down, and apparently she could no longer wheedle him to her way. About 8 in the morning, he loaded a double bed, a big dresser, a night table with drawers, into his pick-up, drove off in the direction of the house someone (the landlady?) had helped them buy, and these two pieces of filth never again lived in our building. They left most of their stuff in the apartment, most of their stuff in the cellar, most of their stuff in the yard. They even left Judith's white chariot. Once in a while they would come over and take away a small load, but not much. Two and half months later, on the day the deputy came to throw me out, most of their things were still on the property. But they never LIVED there again after Christmas morning.

When they were gone, I eventually called my lawyer and told him what I had done. He laughed and laughed, and then said: Good for you. As an attorney, I could never have advised you to do such a thing, but I'm awfully glad you did it. What's sauce for the goose, is sauce for the gander.

It was a tiny victory, as anyone with even half a heart will know. Yes, my animals and I had the rest of our last Christmas day in peace. Yes, we had our last two and half months to spend without the mafia-connected, alcoholic, drug-using, drug-dealing Judith and her boy-on-leash. But if I spent roughly 162 hours pretending phone conversations in a loud voice to get their bed away from MINE, that was 162 hours that were stolen from me and my animals. Stolen from our last holidays, from the last few months that we had to be together.

And in despair I bowed my head,
There is no peace on earth, I said.

(tradtional)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

read... Spite and malice... Kaikenlainen...

~~~~~~~~ website ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~