I don't like to complain, but

one of my neighbors isn't happy with the Elks Lodge, and she can't understand why nobody wants to listen when she tells them why.

Friday she was complaining that the staff ignores her all complaints. She has problems with her breathing and the patrons of the bar downstairs have been smoking on the street under her window.

Yesterday she was complaining about the smells coming from the kitchen. The cooking bothers her. She doesn't like the metal door in the bathroom next to her room. She doesn't like the color of the curtains.

The man in the room next door snores too loudly, and he was farting in there Sunday morning.

The doors in the lobby aren't automatic. The washing machines are too loud. The elevator is too slow. The elevator walls are too red. The people she talks to are too rude.

And today she complains that someone wouldn't answer his door when she knocked.

The Sugar Fairy

I caught an old woman leaving chocolate bars. She was setting Hershey bars against the doors in my hall. She might be new here. I've never seen her before.

She was 4 feet tall. She was wearing pink slippers and a red dress that set off her wild ratty white hair quite becomingly. She presented me with a toothless smile, and she had a twinkle in her eyes that was on the Santa side.

I am enchanted.

Another Necessary Eviction

The gentleman (and I use the term sarcastically) is to be evicted next week. A judge found in favor of Elk's Lodge, and gave him 7 days to move his belongings. He bullied other residents and two of the Elk's Lodge volunteers. He vandalised his room, and rigged the southside stairwell doors to admit a violent non-resident who then attacked a resident.

An hour after His Honor's judgement this bully was at the Poverello Center telling his friends exactly how he intends to retaliate. He purchased Shellac and means to pour it down the toilets on the 2nd and 3rd floors.

Fortunately, one of my neighbors was there and heard every word. I don't know if this means he will be escorted from the premises today, but it at least means he is on notice from the police, and should anything happen he will be the primary suspect.

Like thieves in the night

Two young men were caught sneaking in one of the windows in our hallway. This photograph was taken by one of my neighbors, a budding sleuth. She passed me 4, but this one says it all.

As she put it, "they are so busted."

She watched them use a key to enter room 316.

An Arrest is Likely

We have a problem at the 383. There is a man living here who is a bully and a thug. He is disabling the locks on windows in the hallway so that his comrades can enter the building without walking through the front entryway so they can avoid the cameras.

They are waiting for him. They have filed eviction papers, but he intends to force a confrontation. In the meanwhile, he is behaving in a hostile manner towards some of the tenants here. He bangs on walls as he passes and he slams his door and the bathroom door whenever he enters and exits.

I am almost hoping for a confrontation. I wonder what he will do if I kick him in the nuts. I'm very good at kicking nuts. No one expects an old man to kick him in the nuts.

My shift starts soon. I'll miss any action tonight but I'm free tomorrow night. I hope the police aren't called until I can be here to watch them take him away in cuffs.

Going the other way

I was standing on the first floor waiting for the elevator to come down. And when the door opened that beautiful young veteran was standing in front of me. She was as close to me as she might have been if we were dancing.

She was on her way out. I told her good morning and she smiled and returned the greeting. What could I say at 5:30 in the morning that would make her stay and talk to me?

What a beautiful smile.

Estrangement

My family wants as little to do with me as possible. And I don't blame them at all.

I am an alcoholic. I was drunk from 1960 till 2006. I've been sober for 2 years, 1 month, and 17 days.

I lost my wife to another man, and that didn't stop me drinking. Then my sons stopped speaking to me. And that didn't stop me drinking.

I didn't stop drinking till I was found passed out in the center lane on 24th Street in Billings.

Last Easter my sponsor helped me to affect a reconciliation with my sons. They accept my phone calls now, and we exchange niceties. But they haven't forgiven me and don't expect they will. I am not invited to their homes, and they won't accept my invitations to visit me here.

I hope time is on my side.

She wears lace.

I walked up on the lady veteran taking her panties out of the dryer. She wears white lace panties under those blue jeans.

When she turned around and caught me I don't know who was more embarrassed, but she blushed.

The girls these days don't blush. It's a bygone phenomenon. I liked it.

Men in skirts

On my way to the men's shower, I came across a man leaving the Ladies Room in a wet towel. When I frowned at him, he told me the Ladies shower had better water pressure.

I told him it made no difference to me. I wouldn't think of invading a lady's privacy.

He told me to (F) off.

I shrugged it off but I wonder if I should report this to anyone. Isn't it against the law for men to use the Ladies Room? What if he is really a Peeping Tom and the shower is just an excuse?

Everyone here blogs.

The lady veteran blogs. The ink on her hands is from a project she keeps secret in her room. She wouldn't say, but she did admit to blogging.

A veteran living down the other hall also keeps a blog. He writes there daily about the "Jewification of America," his words. There be bigots in this house. I'm sure it's one of a million wingnut conspiracy blogs, black background, several banners with links to Fox and Limbaugh.

Deterrent

I was taking the trash to the dumpster, and two boys were trying to climb onto the fire escape. That beautiful woman with ink on her hands reached out from the window above, and poured a bucket of water on the trespassers.

After using some carefully chosen vulgarities, they ran off.

Moving off the streets

I live in a flop house on the third floor. My next door neighbor is an artist. My other next door neighbor is a laundry room.

There are other veterans living here. One is an attractive woman with long brown hair and a red wool coat.

I saw ink on her hands. It might be she is another artist. A flop house should have more than one. Or maybe she keeps an octopus. Pets aren't allowed.

I have room key and an electronic card for the door downstairs. No roommates allowed, and no guests are to come up the elevator without an escort. They checked my credit and looked for a police record. No felons allowed either.

I got a ticket for speeding in 1964. I was drunk but it was a different world back then. I was picked up for public drunkeness in 2006, but they took me to the hospital instead of lockup.