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Those were the words I heard from outside my window at roughly midnight Saturday night.
Needless to say, I was out the door before the echoes had faded.
Once outside, I saw a blonde woman talking with a fellow with a buzz-cut. They seemed less than thrilled to see me, but became apologetic and conciliatory rather than aggressive and confrontational. Good thing, considering that if the guy had gotten in my face, I was fully prepared to put him down and put him down hard.
I'm still not real thrilled about them. I asked the woman if she was all right, and the man tried to answer for her. I asked *her* again if she was all right, and she said yes, she was fine, they were just having "a discussion." I stayed there for a few more minutes, got their names and found out where they lived (in the apartment right above us, oh happy day), then once I was convinced that the woman was in no immediate danger, shook hands with both of them and turned to go back inside -- only then letting them see the bokken I'd held in my other hand, reverse-grip so that I could bring it to bear quickly and easily, but almost impossible to see in that light until I chose to show it to them. I couldn't tell quite what they were saying once they saw it, but I could tell there was a definite element of "What the (@*#&$@ ???"
Suits me. I find it useful to have the neighbors think you're a little on the crazy side, in ways that might result in severe bodily harm if they try to get too far out of line.
Of course, tonight I wasn't any happier with them. As we stepped out of our apartment, we heard another "emotionally intense" conversation coming out the window from upstairs. Unless I'm mistaken, the blonde lady from last night was on the phone with one of her kids. Unfortunately, the part of the discussion I could make out comes under my heading of emotional abuse -- something along the lines of, "When you start being nice to me, then I'll be your mother again. Until then, I'm not your mother."
I'm really wondering if we're going to have to call either the police, or Family Services, or both, before all is said and done.
Only time will tell, I suppose.
Needless to say, I was out the door before the echoes had faded.
Once outside, I saw a blonde woman talking with a fellow with a buzz-cut. They seemed less than thrilled to see me, but became apologetic and conciliatory rather than aggressive and confrontational. Good thing, considering that if the guy had gotten in my face, I was fully prepared to put him down and put him down hard.
I'm still not real thrilled about them. I asked the woman if she was all right, and the man tried to answer for her. I asked *her* again if she was all right, and she said yes, she was fine, they were just having "a discussion." I stayed there for a few more minutes, got their names and found out where they lived (in the apartment right above us, oh happy day), then once I was convinced that the woman was in no immediate danger, shook hands with both of them and turned to go back inside -- only then letting them see the bokken I'd held in my other hand, reverse-grip so that I could bring it to bear quickly and easily, but almost impossible to see in that light until I chose to show it to them. I couldn't tell quite what they were saying once they saw it, but I could tell there was a definite element of "What the (@*#&$@ ???"
Suits me. I find it useful to have the neighbors think you're a little on the crazy side, in ways that might result in severe bodily harm if they try to get too far out of line.
Of course, tonight I wasn't any happier with them. As we stepped out of our apartment, we heard another "emotionally intense" conversation coming out the window from upstairs. Unless I'm mistaken, the blonde lady from last night was on the phone with one of her kids. Unfortunately, the part of the discussion I could make out comes under my heading of emotional abuse -- something along the lines of, "When you start being nice to me, then I'll be your mother again. Until then, I'm not your mother."
I'm really wondering if we're going to have to call either the police, or Family Services, or both, before all is said and done.
Only time will tell, I suppose.
