There’s a kid next door that -I’m quite sure- is mentally challenged. I’ve lived in this apartment and been next-door neighbors with this family long enough to tell. It’s a routine. Every evening , I can hear the boy scream “Mommy! Mommy!” while the bathroom exhaust fan is on on their side. I believe that that’s probably when he gets his evening bath.
He also stomps his feet so loud, I often hear it seemingly happening in my own apartment. This boy is probably 11-12 years old. His parents drive a Mercedes Benz and a Porsche Cayenne both bearing disabled plates. He has other siblings that seem normal. Coming out from almost a door that’s about 4 feet apart, I have never seen this couple together or smile. Never heard laughter.
The wife is a short 4’10 or so – probably Hispanic . She always gets the kids with her and I’ve seen her drive both cars. Being annoyed with their son probably has prevented me from saying “hi” OR it is most likely because her husband is a fucking inconsiderate prick that slams the door each time he leaves the house. He pounds on it too. Like “bang, bang, bang” pound. My children and I are annoyed. About a year ago, I mentioned this noise to the apartment staff. They asked me if I wanted them to talk to my neighbors and I said no. I wasn’t sure how retarded the father is.
Today, I was having pounding on my chest. Is this how a ventricular tachycardia feels like ? I don’t think so. However, I was watching the new season of OITNB when I started to notice my chest was pounding. “It could be the coffee.” I told my daughter. We often watch the entire season together. Today she’s gone to work and I had to take a shower. My period is giving me big-time cramps and the kid screaming – and stomping his damn feet- next to my bathroom racked up my nerves. Thank goodness I have cats to calm me down and my pill that’s easy to swallow.
Still haven’t found a place to move into . My eviction issue is almost halfway done. I have 4 payments to make, less than $500 each. Top priority is a new home.
One time, I was coming out of my parking space walking towards my apartment when I saw my neighbor’s Porsche unloading their kids, most probably from school. I couldn’t help but notice that the boy’s mother was having a difficult time getting her son out of the car. I mean he can walk. I guess he just doesn’t understand that it’s time to fucking go home and gets rinsed off the day.
That’s most probably why the couple next door is never smiling, or cheery. With all the troubles going on in my life, all my misery, I still get to laugh and giggle … I still get to smile.
Lesson is, Mercedes Benz and Porsche don’t make the rainbows come out to save the day.
Another Day, Another Pill 