TimesToCome

Sometimes you have neighbors that are not the swiftest or the most considerate. Sometimes a knock and a simple request doesn’t get things done.

We’ve a neighbor whose pool pump sits right next to our home. Over the last several weeks it has gotten progressively louder until it reached jet airplane status this past weekend. DH is a far nicer person than I so I sent him over to have a friendly neighborly chat with the hillbillies and request the bumpkins make some repairs on this pump which was now running about 16 hours a day.

The yokels would not answer the door. I knew the hayseeds were home, I had seen the barbarians in the back yard a few minutes earlier.

OK. We called the local sheriff’s office and requested they go have a neighborly chat with the clodhoppers. And they did. All was quiet and life was good.

For about 24 hours. Then it came on again, I ducked thinking some pilot had missed the airport. Four hours it ran. Then blessed silence.

But the silence was temporary. Again around noon today the airplane disguised as a pool pump took off.

That’s it!

I put on my best Rutger Hauer face and marched over and knocked. And no one answered. And I went to the back door and caught the rube sneaking out the back door. There is nothing more likely to set off my temper than a horrid, gnarled 35 year old peasant pretending to be coy and dumb. What was she thinking? A few minutes of friendly neighborly conversation and the hayseed agreed to get the pump fixed and turn it off.

I come home, there is still an airplane in my back yard. I wait. I watch each minute slowly tick by, long second by long second. At ten minutes I reach my limit. Called DH on phone and suggested it might be a good idea to stay near phone in case lunatic wife needed bail money. Kept DH on phone.

Knocked. No answer.

Knocked again. No answer.

Used car keys to pound on glass. Oh! An answer.
I repeated the Ruger Hauer routine with a little more intense interpretation. “No I will not leave your property.” “No I do not care who you call.” ” I will dismantle that infernal machine if I hear it again”. I used my best thick Boston accent. That always gets them down here.

Silence. Joy. Peace at last.

A visit from the sheriff. I kinda figured that was not unlikely.

“You scared your neighbor”

“I was trying really, really hard” Cop does not think 45 year old, 100 pound, 5′ tall female who is surrounded by computer books and wearing thick glasses is scary. ( Bah, what do they know about little old ladies. )

“They said they would fix the pump next week, pool guys are backed up”

“Cool, all is well then”

“You don’t look scary”

“Well for God’s sake don’t tell her that! They will never fix that infernal machine.”

Sometimes there are no laws to protect you and you have to rely on your imagination. And sometimes you just gotta be mean. There are lots of plastic surgeons down here, and lots of women who’ve been crafted to look like barbie dolls. But it is hard to be taken serious when you look like a barbie doll. It’s not for me.