the cheese stands alone

Local Loons

As I've said before, my neighborhood is Bellevue West.

Part the First
This morning, woken by the sounds of chirping birdies shouts of "fuck", I found out that Kappa Kappa Hoochie is moving out. I stepped outside for a peek and learned from the (relatively) new people across the hall that they'd been booted out. It turns out living above them is much worse than living across and up from them. The KKH policy is all night long loud music, combined with live-action recreation of whatever video game they're involved in. Naturally, New Neighbor called the management office. Management scolded KKH. KKH, being the mature, responsible adults they aren't, promptly began a campaign of harassment on New Neighbor, complete with middle of the night ceiling banging, screams of "fuck you, n***er" when they'd leave the house, and garbage thrown up onto NN's balcony.
Imagine their surprise when they were evicted.
So they're out there, loading up the bits and pieces, having a very loud conversation about how the "tightass bitches" around here ruined all their fun.
The most pathetic thing about the whole deal is the one girl who is actually ON the lease, in fact supposed to be the only person living there, is in the Navy. Her command received a copy of the notice of eviction, with complete list of complaints and problems, and now she's going to mast (a sort of in-house court) about it.

Part the Second
Remember Dainbramage, the c**t loon downstairs who is my sworn enemy? She came upstairs to my door last night, bold as you please.
She had the strangest request ever.... she wanted to borrow the sliding screen door to my balcony. Apparently she'd walked through hers (?) and wanted to borrow mine until hers could be repaired.

D: Uh... I live downstairs? And I want to ask... can I borrow your screen door?
Me: What? Borrow what? My screen door?
D: Uh... yeah, I kinda broke mine? And I want to have the patio door open? For fresh air and all, you know?
Me: So open it. Is it broken too?
D: No, it's not, uh... broke? But I have a kid? And she might get out if I don't got a door, you know? And you don't got a kid, right? So you don't need a screen door.
Me: *flabbergasted silence*
D: So can you bring me down the door?
Me: No.
D: Can your husband bring me the door?
Me: No.
D: Can I call the maintenance guy to come bring me the door?
Me: Look, you aren't getting my door.
D: Whadda you mean?
Me: It's my door. You had a door. You broke it. Get it fixed and then you'll have a screen door.
D: That's not faaaaaiiiiiirrrrrrr! I neeeeeeeed a screen door!
Me: Okay, we're done here.
*slam*

When I went out to my car this morning, I noticed she's temporarily solved her problem by piling furniture in front of the open patio door (she's on the first floor). And standing at the railing of her patio, waving at everyone, was her kid... who'd climbed over the furniture to escape.

I live at the shallow end of the gene pool.