The end of the downstairs drama...for now.

I realize I haven't done a "neighbor update" in quite a while, so one is long overdue, especially since things are now quiet, and probably will be for a good long time.  So I figured I'd update how things have worked out.  Events may be moderately compressed and out of alignment, but this is pretty much how it all happened.

As I've mentioned before, I've spent a lot of time on the backyard, clearing out the brush, planting flowers and trees, and generally trying to make the place look good.  So over the July 4th weekend, I was a bit distressed when Josh (downstairs teenager) knocked on my door with a request to build a fire pit in the backyard.

"Ummm....no."  I paused, still trying to take it in.  "There's nowhere you can dig a good pit, it's against every single fire code in the village...it's a bad idea."

"Well...just come down and I'll show you where I want to build it."

Dan (downstairs father/husband) was standing at the spot, where Josh had already started digging with MY shovel.  A gas grill abandoned behind the house was now in pieces, with the grill part seated oddly in the beginnings of the hole.  Dan made the case that it was Oatka Fest, and Josh couldn't drink, and he REALLY wanted to have a fire.

I pointed out that the spot they'd picked was directly under a tree, and would spark the roots.  It was a bad idea, I said, on every level I could think of.

Dan stared at me.  "Boy wants to build a fire, though."

I sighed, knowing that logic and reason had no place in these discussions, only damage control.  I had been thinking about buying a fire pit and various other furniture, and I had just gotten my PD bonus that weekend.  "Tell you what - I'm going to go buy a fire pit.  Above ground.  I'll be back.  Don't...dig anything else."

So I drove to Batavia, going first to Home Depot, then to Target.  I got a fire pit, and an offset umbrella that was on clearance (in July - whatever, not questioning), and brought them back.  So Josh had his fire in the firepit, and I went out to the Oatka Fest with Dan (looooooong story on that one).

The following day, I bought a table set at Target I'd seen, but didn't have trunk space for the previous day.  Also picked up some tiki torches, and cleared out a nice little sitting area.

A truce of sorts was declared - Wendy didn't feel comfortable going into the back yard, so Dan and I would hang out in the backyard, playing guitar.  Josh would occasionally join us, and on one memorable occasion, Savannah (back neighbor) came down and joined us on saxophone. 

In the meantime, I was also working on clearing out some of the neighbor's back yard as well.  Barb, the next door matriarch, had a vision of creek access, and spurred on by the other neighbor clearing her yard down to the creek, there was a boom of activity.

Josh, I must add, also had his girlfriend move in, along with her THREE kids.  So he was spending a lot of time in the backyard with the fire.  And wanting to cut and split and otherwise break stuff, as is natural for an unemployed teenage boy who desperately wants an outlet.

Part of that outlet came from helping me with the bathroom renovation - another complete story unto itself.  But he helped me a lot with up and down stuff, other than what was (in hindsight) a major issue where I'd asked him to measure for a SharkBite connector and he'd instead just shoved it on there.  I cursed a lot, and Wendy was VERY upset I'd cursed in front of his children.  Knowing she'd dropped worse in front of the kids, I chose to ignore it.

After the bathroom was finished, I directed him as best I could with a good friend coming in to visit.  But he was antsy.  He wanted to chop and break stuff. 

Finally, I was heading off for a day to help with Sam's birthday party, and on my way out the door, Josh announced he was going to clear backyard stuff.

Knowing he wanted to use an ax rather than any of the useful other clearing that needed to be done, I told him to PLEASE check with Barb before doing anything, since she and I had talked and knew what needed to be done.  And with that, I went off to help set up for Sam's birthday party.

I came back from the party, and Josh announced he'd chopped up "that junk stump out back".  I raised an eyebrow, not coming up with any "junk stump" that was out back at all.  I went out back to check, and found that he was referring to the ornamental stump that Barb was specifically saving aside as a decorative centerpiece of her backyard.

Walking back up to the house, he was standing in the back yard with the axe.  "What?" he said, looking at my face.

"I asked you to do ONE thing.  ONE.  What was it?"

"You know, you can't talk to me like this.  I'm not a fucking child, man."

"I asked you to check with Barb.  And you didn't.  The one thing I asked you to do."

"YOU CANNOT TALK TO ME LIKE I'M A FUCKING CHILD!!!!!"

At this point it suddenly occurred to me I was having this conversation with a pissed-off teenager holding a double-edged ax.  Fast retreat seemed MORE than reasonable, and I abruptly retreated to my apartment.

Later that evening, the ax goes up into my apartment.  Dan agrees to take it away in his car somewhere the next morning.

A day later, I get a text from Josh.  "I'm building the fire pit.  Big-ass fire in the backyard, and you can't fucking say nothin' about it.  My backyard too."

I look out back, and see Josh dragging the grill to backyard.  I quickly text the landlord.  "Josh is building a huge fire pit in the backyard underneath the large maple tree.  I'm assuming you have an opinion about this."

Thirty seconds later Dan comes flying out of the apartment and down towards the back yard.  Lots of bad noise,and the grill is hauled back up in front of the basement door.  I had a text conversation with my friend Jenn (also known as the Voice of Reason) about all the drama going on, and asked me why I cared so much about a rental.  And that Josh had a point - his back yard as much as mine.

"But I've done so much work!" I said.

"Rental."

"But they're just pissing on what I've done."

"You want to buy the place?"

I laughed.  "Hell no."

"Then it's a rental.  And if it's pissing you off this much, walk away.  Cheap rent isn't worth the stress.  Move.  You should have done it years ago."

The following evening I'm walking Dante and I see the grill base, now painted bright red, parked in the backyard with a stack of wood next to it, and I feel a blind rage welling inside me.  I marched Dante toward the house, Dan sitting in the front yard half-crocked already.

"How's it going?"

I don't answer.  Slammed the door behind me.

Dante goes in the apartment and I march directly past Dan to head for the backyard.  "Dude, talk to me, what's going on?"

I hauled the grill up to the edge of the driveway, and dropped it by the curb.  Dan rushed up.  "Nick, he's just gonna haul it back down."

I shook my head.  "Tomorrow's trash day.  Scrappers will get it within an hour."

"Nick, come on.  You need to be reasonable about this."

And at that moment, I think back to everything that led up to this, most of what's happened in the past few years, and Jenn's words of wisdom.

"You're right.  I do.  I'm done."

Dan stepped back.  "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm done.  I've had it.  I'm finished."

I headed down the path, and pulled out my phone to send two texts.  First one to Josh.  "Go ahead.  Have your bonfire.  I don't care."

Second text to my landlord.  "I'm done.  I'll put it in writing later, but consider this 30 days notice.  I'll be out of the apartment by the end of September."

And with that, I directed myself toward the Smokin' Eagle to wait out the rest of the evening.  And a third text to Jenn filling her in on the situation.

My first Scotch arrived when I got a text from Josh.  "Don't talk to me."

I looked out the window, and saw him walking down the other sidewalk.  Did he know I was here?  Then I laughed - not like the boy can come in, right?

I texted back.  "I'm serious.  Have your bonfire.  Big and bright.  I really don't care."

Next text from Jenn.  "Not sure I approve of the Eagle, but tell me you're not texting the teen."

Damn, she's good, I thought.  "Not anymore."

"Good."

The next couple of Scotches go by with conversations with the landlord, (who I tell not to cut short his errands in Rochester to deal with the situation - I'm really just done with the situation entirely, and it's not a panic situation) and Jess (to let her know the situation and tell her to keep her ear out for cheap rent in the area).

Scotch Four arrives with the end of the conversation with Jess, and I realize this is the first text conversation I've had with her at the Eagle that hasn't involved me saying something stupid while drunk.  I consider this another victory (as Scotch Four definitely qualifies as drunk) and a sign I've made the right decision.

Another text from Josh.  "We need to talk."

I text back.  "Nothing to talk about.  I'm gone by the end of September.  Do whatever you want - I don't care."

I believe I may have had Scotch Six before going home.  It would certainly explain why the streets were tipping back and forth on my walk home.  (Note - one of the main reasons I patronize the Eagle: walking distance.)

The apartment house was remarkably quiet when I got home, with only Wendi standing outside the door smoking.  She said something to me as I staggered toward the door.  I believe it may have been "hi".  My response may have involved the words "go", "fuck", and "yourself", especially given the look on her face.

"What did I do?"

"What HAVEN'T you done?" I shouted back, staggering into my apartment and locking the door.  I turned on the stereo, called up The Heavy's "Big Bad Wolf", played it at top volume a couple of times, and headed toward the bedroom.

There was a knock on the door.  I stopped at the door, checked to make sure it was locked, and continued on to the bedroom to pass out.

The next morning (if 11:52 counts as "morning") I woke up with a ringing hangover, and found a letter from Wendi taped to my door.  It was a very sweet and touching letter about how she was frustrated with Josh's behavior, told me several things I didn't know, and also how she appreciated everything I'd done around the apartment and how she'd enjoyed having me as a neighbor.

Very sweet, I thought.  But I'm still out of here.

Tensions downstairs continued to mount.  I had a friend over for dinner, determined to enjoy the backyard oasis before I moved, and when I brought her over, Dan was hauling stuff out to his car.

I was determined not to get into a long conversation due to having a dinner guest, but he told me he needed a break from it all and was moving out for "a little while" to sort things out and see how that goes.  I nodded, wished him luck, and went upstairs.

My friend said she noticed a definite reaction to his statement of moving out for a short time, and asked me about it.  I didn't want too share my own memories of moving out "for a short time" three years ago, and wasn't sure I could put it into words.  "Ignore it," I said.

Turns out that was the case, as the day after Dan moved out for "a short time", his stuff started accumulating in the hallway as Wendi, her boyfriend (who I'd known about for years), and the kids started cleaning house.  Dan came to pick it all up a couple of days later, and we chatted on the porch of the neighbor's house.

"You got the crap end of the stick on this one," I told him.

He said he was better off out, and that he'd be back to hang out and play guitar.  That was months ago, and the only time I've seen him since was briefly as he dropped off divorce paperwork.

I told my landlord I was staying.  His quick response was "Thank God."

In the time since, Wendi and Larry (the bf) have done massive renovations to the apartment over the rest of August, but have been noticeably absent for most of the last month or so.  Neither her Jeep nor Josh's car have regularly been in the driveway for the last month, and Josh told me the last time I saw him that he was thinking of moving to West Virginia to live with his girlfriend's father.

The calm is...odd.  I'm enjoying it for the time being, and I've left out a lot.  (I realize my neighbor posts have not even TOUCHED the topic of Driveway Guy.)  I need to consolidate and truly write up the stories in the quiet.  Heaven only knows what happens next.