Last Night's Phone Conversation

10:33 PM Tuesday

5 Drinks comes out on the stoop to have her phone conversation at near shouting levels so the whole neighborhood can hear. The following are some of the highlights:

5 Drinks: "What you doing?"
5D accusatory: "Why didn't you answer my call?"
Guy responds
5D coyly: "What are you doing?"
Guy Responds
5D upset: "What took you so long (to call me back)?"
Guy Responds
5D explains: "I'm actually here by myself, they went over to ..."
At this point I was shocked because this meant that the other neighbors had actually had somewhere to go for an evening.
Also at this point I assumed she was talking to her boyfriend and was perhaps inviting him over to have sex, an assumption I thought was confirmed by the next statement.
5D: "I'm wearing knickers (seriously, who uses that word?) and a black shirt."
Guy responds negatively
5D snaps: "Excuse me if I don't look good I'm just here with boyfriend, what do you expect?"

This is where I got a little lost as it became apparent she was not talking to her boyfriend unless she has multiple men. I guess that wouldn't be all that surprising since it seems most of the guys who have been over there regularly consume more than five drinks in a sitting.

Unfortunately the rest of the conversation is unknown because she returned to the kitchen, perhaps to get her present boyfriend a sixth drink to make up for her less than appealing outfit.

The Debriefing (Epic Phone Call Part III)

At this point, the telephone conversation ends, but she proceeds to regurgitate both sides of the entire conversation to someone else on the porch (I assume it was Five Drinks). The funniest part about this is that when she repeats her lines, she emphasizes how clever she is. I can’t even describe it; I wish I had had some sort of audio recording device. It’s like her normal state of being is 15 beers in (or maybe she was just actually 15 beers in). For you Math-heads out there, that’s 3 x 5-Beers (...and even then.....). She also is explaining it to Five Drinks as you would explain something to a very young child. I bet she practices in the mirror (diss!).

So from what I can gather she was talking to some guy who also seems to be having relationship woes (possibly with Five Drinks). I won’t mention his name because I want plausible deniability when they find this blog and take us to court, but let me assure you it’s a ridiculous name that no one would actually ever christen their child with.*

Here are a couple of lines she reiterates to her lucky audience of Five Drinks & I (though we are supposedly separated by at least 20 feet and a wall that I am becoming more and more convinced is composed entirely of sticks):

“She didn’t want to live with your parents”

I don't think she actually said this out loud to man-with-preposterous-name; she was merely venting her thoughts (or whatever passes in her case) to a grave and somber or wasted Five Drinks. For the first time since we began this blog, I can fully agree with Helga. Three people in a trailer is OK, but 4 is intolerable. She would probably have to sleep above the back wheel and orgies with your parents are never fun unless it's dress-up night. How could you expect the parents to keep up anyway? It'd be like trying to run Halo 3 with Windows 3.1.

“Everyone hates my husband; everyone in the world hates my husband. My husband is a terrible father.”

Now here I'm pretty sure she is talking about her own (ex?) husband. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but if Codename: Helga thinks her husband is a terrible parent, then she must have married Vlad The Impaler. Or a toaster-oven. Actually, a hot breakfast everyday without fail would have probably been a godsend for these kids.


*OK, if you really really really want to know, email wtfneighbor@gmail.com and I will tell you

Send Me To The Fun House (Epic Phone Call Part II)

“I’m your fucking baby’s mother and I’m not going to give you money. And our house is fucking fun.”

How do these clauses even follow each other? Does she fear that he is somehow unclear about exactly how much fun is transpiring at their house? Surely he must know. Even I know, and I just met (or actually have never met) her. He could simply ask anyone in the neighborhood! Especially if his idea of fun is walking around outside your house dressed in such a manner that people wished you were naked just so they could get it over with. Is she just trying to rub it in how much better she is doing than him? As in, “Not only will I not be giving you any money (which I have and you don’t), but I’m doing great and we are having so much fun without you.” That’s nice that everything is working out so well for her. I hope she chokes on her own face.

I can’t believe she said that her house is fun. Like some fucking fraternity house. I’m still waiting for the fliers around the neighborhood about the “dry” dance party at their house, but you have to bring 5 girls for each guy.

The funny thing is that I’m pretty sure she wasn’t even talking to her ex-husband. She was just quoting herself (or her addled thoughts, rather) to her friend. Who are these friends anyway? I don’t understand how they even exist. How do they pick up the phone everytime? It’s probably because they don’t have caller ID. If I saw her name come up on my screen, I’d drown my phone. And then my phone would thank me. It would save him the trouble of committing hara-kiri, which is something he's been considering for months. Ever since his SIM card left for another port he's been depressed. Anyway, once he had passed on, I would give him a Viking send-off in the pocket of a crash test dummy.

Holy Trinity 3-In-1 (Epic Phone Call Part I)

What could possibly give Helga the impression that the entire neighborhood wants to hear about every aspect of her life? I just listened to an entire telephone conversation that I could write a thesis on. And grammatically, the end of the sentence is where you send prepositions to.

I won’t transcribe the entire thing as it was deeply personal and I would never betray my loud, obnoxious neighbor to a bunch of strangers with internet access. Also, I was mostly asleep when I took notes on it. Because I can’t accurately do the conversation justice in a single post, I will stagger my comments over a couple of days. This will also give me time to consult my muse, who, if you would hear Josh tell it, is just some girl I lured into the basement with stale milk duds. But actually, that can’t be true because she stopped eating weeks ago.

Anyway:

“I don’t do anything wrong. I don’t do anything wrong. Anything. Move your ass.”

I’m pretty sure this is where I came into the conversation. Generally, the police also come into a conversation at this point. I don’t know which is more annoying: the fact that she believes herself to be some sort of angel or the boorish repetition. One of the reasons she probably came out onto the porch at this point is because she was probably annoying the fuck out of Rat-A-Tat. If she never does anything wrong, then I must be up for some sort of award. One that fits right next to my 2nd In Baby Punching and 3rd In Jitterbug trophies. And again, I have no idea if the “Move your ass” was intended for child or canine, but I bet she doesn’t have to repeat that one often because she is the size of the entire A-Team.