...when you lack a fence.
It's no secret I'm not a fan of the lower-middle-class town we live in, though I've gotten used to it.
I came back from a Petco run on my day off to find a pile of the sweetest-smelling manure and some trash on one side of our front lawn.
I eventually had to call the cops on our Filipino neighbor (who fessed up already) before he would clean it up. He tried to play nice in front of the popo, but I wasn't going to shake his poo-spreading hand.
It's bad news when I say, "I shouldn't be living here," and the cops goes, "I wouldn't either."
Vindication
I have to say this turn of events is a HUGE relief for me.
I'd been arguing with Jifo for months over the fact that the Filipinos on the other side (whom Jifo swears are related to the manure-neighbors because he sees the same grandfather at both houses) let their yappy wiener dog sh** on our front lawn and even our WALKWAY constantly - and yet Jifo won't at least leave a note to ask them to clean it up because it's "just not him."
(Don't get me started on how confrontation-phobic Asians and Californians are, it drives me insane.)
I felt so vindicated today over the point I was trying to convey!
It's a matter of boundaries. Little transgressions lead to big ones when you have bad neighbors. I'm a fan of nipping small poops in the bud before they turn into piles of manure. Brief, civil notes usually do the trick.
Talk to your neighbors people, don't piss on their lawns.
In an unrelated note - Latino cops are hot.
1 comment:
I'm glad to hear that you are still keeping it racial out there in California.
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