Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Guess what I did today. No, guess again. Nope. Still don't have it. Curious, are you? Well, I'm not sure you could even GUESS anyway, because it's just weird enough to not be guessable. Which, of course, is par for the course in Jessica's life.

I went to get in to my car today and promptly discovered that it had been attacked with spaghetti sauce.

Yes, I'm serious.

Why, you might be wondering, and know that I wonder right along with ya. I had left the driver's side window cracked a bit, and lo and behold, what had to have been an entire jar of spaghetti sauce was all over the side of the seat, the backseat floor, and the interior panels. Most of it had dried, luckily, so I didnt sit right in it, but you know, the smell was still good and ripe. I dont know if some drunken, half-wit neighbor of mine accidentally dropped something and was too rude to let me know, or if it was something more suspicious.

I was so irritated, though, that I knocked on Asshole Neighbor Dale's ( you know, the guy who lives behind me and says I make too much trash) window and asked him outright if he did it. I was polite, but if the answer would have been anything remotely affirmative I would have been ready to throw down. Dale doesn't really like me much, ( that trash thing, I "make too much paper"- what am I? A wasp?- I "put down the toilet seat too loudly", I shut my front door "too hard" and I'm "rude and selfish". I think he needs to quit hiding those bottles of Jack at the bottom of the trashcan, and get some help so his hangovers will stop and all of my ruckus will cease to be so annoying.) but THIS was beyond him, I must say. Even he said so. He came out, looked in my car and said, "What the FUCK? Jessica, I think that wasn't an accident. It was deliberate. I don't know WHO, but come on. If I REALLY hated you I'd do better than THAT. I'd put sugar in your gas tank or something MATURE!!" Cross Dale off the list ( but keep an eye on him for just in case....). He suggested we go talk to Pat, the neighborhood Know-It-All, and see what SHE had to say.

Pat seems to think it was some young hooligan skateboarder kids that have been hanging around our street at all hours in a pack. I've seen said skateboarders and while I never like to judge kids because they're annoying and adolescent, these guys ARE, indeed, hooligan-esque. They never get out of the goddamned road when you're driving in it because they're too busy with this makeshift ramp they got goin', and if you honk, they heckle. And I'm not sure why they're out there in the middle of the DAY, since, hey, shouldn't they be in school, but apparently, according to Pat, they aren't being raised particularly well. Well, that's my euphamism. She just rolls her eyes and nods in the general direction of their parents' houses. Anyway, she promised to keep an eye out.

Which means I'm stuck with a cleaning bill for the interior of my car, which, by the way, is going to run me around $60. Unless I want to try and do it myself, which I might have to because I don't have $60. And I LOVE cleaning my car, did I mention that? Right up there with washing the cats, something else that is sure to set me weeping in total frustration. I'm sure looking forward to it.
My secondary plan, which might make all the neighbors mad and get ANOTHER jar of WHATEVER dumped in my car is to post these leaflets that I printed up:

Dear Neighbors:

Today I got in my car only to discover an ENTIRE jar of spaghetti sauce had been dumped down the driver's side window. I am assuming this was an accident that someone made on the way to the trash. Regardless, it is VERY RUDE to just leave a mess like this for someone to clean up.

I am hoping the guilty party will come forward and help with the costs of having the car rug shampooed, in the interest of keeping good relations among the neighbors.

In any case, PLEASE be more mindful of open car windows when disposing of your trash.
Very respectfully,
5555 Someplace Street
(black Model with Out-of-State Plates)

Of course, it's ludicrous to say something like " accident on the way to the trash", or "being more mindful of open windows when disposing of trash." I mean, seriously, who thinks of THAT?!?! But that's my point exactly; I'm trying to say, "whatever loser did this needs to step up because I KNOW it wasn't an accident, even though I'll pretend here it is". I doubt if it will do any good, but maybe if it was one of those hooligan kids, they'll think twice about messing with me again, because let's face it: Burbank police have NOTHING but time on their hands and are more than happy to use it harassing people. It's true- it's not one of the safest neighborhoods in LA for nothing. And everyone knows it.


Oh well. I guess I'm glad it wasn't salsa....