Looking up Maria's address, hotmail has this cool new function of showing emails received from that person and I found this one which made me laugh. The tragedy of Marta life comes up as comedy.
"I´ve just stopped laughing after reading your latest neighbour-update! This is perfect material for your next film or book! But seriously, I can´t believe this is happening in 2002. Hang in there!
Love, Maria"
Marta wrote:
David, the real fruit loop alcoholic needing anger management counselling, who lives in the garage next to our flats, started rowing with me in the street calling me a bitch, telling me I was the root of all the problems anyone has ever had here, how awful I was asking Cliff to clear up his compost heap from the front of the flats (fair request I thought - a daffodil growing in it or not, he doesn't have one outside his front door)and how I was the devil incarnate etc. So Armen came out and started beating him up. 5 seconds later he was the most reasonable man on the planet - listened to my side of the story about the parking drama and then apologised! Promised it wasn't him who superglued our locks.
I was fine apart from being very upset after the point he calmed down.Until then it was fully battle armed spitting venom back, having had common sense calm reasoning met only with continual abuse. Armen kicked him and punched him - one of each only and suddenly he started talking and listening after squeaking out a "I'll call the police". I think I'll try that technique with colleagues at work that don't listen and that like to shout at me - just beat them into submission. Thinking of Mr Director that said to me "Now put your big ears on and listen. You are talking to a Director". I think I told him I had heard and was going to decide whether it was worth actioning. I so like a P45. Armen told David if he had a problem with something either of us do, to come talk to us like a 'real' man rather than gossip to everyone like some old woman. Armen said he never thought he had superglued our lock because if he did he would have been straight over to Dave and neither cared about police, nor prison. He's just brought us a box of chocs and Armen's given him a bottle of wine back. Ain't life weird?
Sometimes you need to make the person you fear, fear you. Perhaps one of my short films should be about that. I've tried it in real life before too. There was this weirdo when I was temping at the local council who was stalking and staring at us (that is my lunch buddy Amelia and I) as we tried to have our lunchtime picnic in Bournemouth Gardens. "Right I've had enough of this cat and mouse business. He's there again. Let's see how he likes it." as I whipped up the blanket and strolled indignantly in his direction. He ran!
Actually I'm really disappointed - not speaking to eachother meant I didn't have to listen to all the shit he comes out with. I would blank him when we passed eacother and it wouldn't make me feel uncomfortable anymore. He just didn't exist and therefore it wasn't a problem. The row started because he demanded to know when I'd be moving my ass out of the flats. He's asked us to keep a spare key to his garage in case he comes back early from France (finally the English wreak revenge by sending David to do painting and decorating there). He is the slowest P&D ever and least cost effective. There's a cup of tea every hour and he spends the whole time chatting with the world from his ladder. I think we got the key because he rowed with one of the other flat owners yesterday that he's normally friends with. Probably was all warmed up and ready to row with everyone.
So all those living in houses (especially detached), be very grateful. All those thinking of buying, avoid flats!
Marta
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