The Darwin Exception

because it's not always survival of the fittest – sometimes the idiots get through

  • Recent Posts

  • Stuff I Blog About

  • Visitors

    • 969,944 People Stopped By
  • Awards & Honors

    Yesh, Right! I don't HAVE any "Awards & Honors" - so nominate me for something - I want one of those badge things to put here. I don't care what it is - make up your own award and give it to me. I'm not picky.

Yoko Ono, Vermeer and National Grid

Posted by thedarwinexception on August 17, 2007

 Okay, I’ve had it with this bitch. Yes, the formerly dead lady next door has crawled out of her coffin and has decided that I am her new best friend. I think she’s feels my powerful life force and has decided that I would make a good Zombie or vampire or something. Or alien. I really, really think she is an alien. From the Planet Luna-Tic. This lady is fucking odd.

It started with an innocent offer for an innocent cup of coffee. And see what being nice gets you? It gets you this fucking shit. Which is why I am *NOT NICE*. That shit never pays.

But Monday, I did the whole “oh, I’ll be nice” thing, WWPD? What would Paul do? Paul would be nice. Paul would tell her that her tapestry wall hanging with the big Bob Marley face across her fat ass looks “lovely as a skirt – very flattering” – he would – that’s just the way Paul is. Paul is always nice – nice to the point that you want to smack him in the head and say “oh shut the fuck up, nobody believes your flirting charming ass.” But that’s what he would do. And it gets him places, too. Paul is the only person that can walk into SeaComm Bank and have tellers fall all over each other to take the “Use the Next Teller Please” sign out from their window and yell across the lobby “I’ll help you Paul!!!” I swear to God that’s true – I’ve seen it happen.

And this is the guy who gets to Price Chopper and *stops* to help women to their cars with their groceries and put them in their car trunks. Yes, Paul, the same guy who when *I* get home with groceries, gets out of the car, looks at the 30 bags of groceries and 50 pound dog food bag and says “You’ve got this covered, right?” 

But I decided to be nice on Monday – for some reason.

I noticed a “National Grid” truck parked in front of my house. I knew they weren’t here for me, so I looked around to see where the driver of the truck might be and I saw that she was at the zombie lady’s house, knocking on the door. The zombie lady didn’t come out to answer the door, and the National Grid girl looked at me and said “Is anyone home?” apparently noticing my x-ray fucking vision wherein I can scan people’s houses to see if they are home.

I just shrugged and said “I don’t know.” I wanted to say “well, see, she is probably asleep in her damned coffin in the middle of the living room – did you *see* the vines holding up the curtains, and the curtains hung there on the OUTSIDE of the house?” But I just shrugged and said “I don’t know.”

I came back in the house and on a whim I went to the back bedroom window to look and see if the formerly dead lady was in the backyard, and sure as shit, there she was, sitting on the back porch and reading. She never did go and answer the door, and the National Grid lady turned her electricity off.

So I guess she *did* have electricity. She doesn’t now, but she did up until Monday.

About an hour later there was a knock on my front door and I went to answer it and there was the formerly dead lady from next door. She had in her hand the notice that the National Grid lady had left on her door saying “HA! You don’t have electricity Anymore!” As I’ve mentioned before she has a quite thick accent, and she’s a little hard to understand but I got the gist of what she was saying – she was complaining that National Grid hadn’t sent her a bill, so she couldn’t pay them, and that she had written them a letter asking them to send her a bill, and they never responded.

I asked her “Well, did you talk to the post office? Because I think that you have to have an accessible mailbox for them to deliver your mail. And they may keep it in General Delivery for a while, but they will send it back if you don’t pick it up.”

She said “Oh, I have mailbox, I hang it next to door in back – I no want ugly mailbox in front of house – I hang in back.”

And I tried to explain to her that that’s just not the way it’s done – you can’t hang a mailbox out back in the woods somewhere and expect the mailman to just hunt around for it – you really need to hang it in a conspicuous place – like somewhere on the front of the house. You know, where they might expect to find it.

She was adamant that she “no want ugly mailbox in front of house.” I didn’t ask why she wanted “ugly coffee mug planted in garden in front of house.”

But I tried to tell her that really, National Grid was sending her bills, I was quite sure of that, but if she wasn’t getting them, then she needed to take it up with the post office. Get a post office box or something and let National Grid know that so she could change the mailing address.

I asked her if she wanted to use the phone to call them, because at this point I was kind of wondering why the hell she was telling me all this, and what she needed me to do. She said no, that she wasn’t going to call them, she was going to wait. She wanted to talk to an attorney because she was thinking of suing them, since she had written them telling them to send her a bill and they hadn’t responded. I said “Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but don’t you need electricity while the lawsuit is pending?” And she said “Oh, I go with no electricity all winter – I no need electricity for few days.” Confirming that indeed, she DIDN’T have electricity all winter. I asked her when she had the lights turned on and she said in March – and that she had never paid a bill since they had never sent her one. Ending the mystery of why the National Grid lady came and turned the electricity off. I asked her if she had a lot of stuff in her refrigerator and if she needed to put some things in ours and she said “No, I no have refrigerator – I eat the cans” – ending the mystery as to what she does with her garbage – apparently she eats cans.

So, having turned down my offer to use the phone, I decided she must be here for some other reason, and I decided I’d get right to the point – so I said to her – “Is there anything you need me to do?” And she said “No, no, no, I only ask neighbors if electricity company overcharge – they no send me bill, so they overcharge me and they no send bill so I cannot see they overcharge. They overcharge you, no?” And well, of course, what could I say? Of course National Grid overcharges – they are a utility company. Is there some utility company in the US that doesn’t overcharge? So to get rid of her I said “Yeah, they overcharge – you go talk to an attorney and I’ll get in on your class action lawsuit.” She just took her shut off notice and left. But I did yell over to her as she was leaving “If you would like some coffee or something in the morning, just come over, ok?” Only because that’s what Paul would do, and I was trying to be nice. For some reason. It’s like asking someone “How have you been?” You don’t *really* want to know how they’ve been, you could give a fuck less how they’ve been, it’s just the “normal, polite thing to do”, isn’t it? I don’t have a lot of experience at this whole “normal polite” thing, so I just did what I thought Paul would have done, because he’s generally, “normal and polite” and inviting her over for coffee was something he would have done. It’s certainly not something I would normally do – I don’t even fucking drink coffee. But, that’s me, trying to be polite.

And if you need proof that nothing good can come from being polite and nice – let me tell ya, Nothing Good Can Come of It!!!

Proof came the next morning in the form of the formerly dead lady knocking at my door at about 9 AM, saying “I will have coffee.”

So the formerly dead lady came in my house – and now that I’ve invited her in, does that mean I have to get a garlic wreath for the front door? I found out a little bit about her – her name is Natasha, (is that Russian?) And if you notice, as someone in AFCA pointed out – Natasha backwards is AH SATAN!!!! What does that tell you, huh HUH?

She is from New York City, she paid $25K for the house next door, she has no television, she has no furniture, she sleeps on the bare floor, she reads a lot, mostly fiction, she knows who Stephen King is, and when I asked her if she knew about Phil Spector, she says she knew Yoko Ono had to rescue John Lennon from Phil when Phil pulled a gun on him.

She has an ex-husband and a son she doesn’t speak to, she is trying to grow tomatoes, potatoes and peppers in the “garden” out front, she has never heard of “Lost” or “America’s Got Talent”, she has heard of “American Idol” but has never seen it.

I asked her if she needed a garbage man because I could send mine over – he’s cheap and reliable, all you need in a garbage man – and she said “No, No, I no need of this.”

I tried to make coffee the best I could – she drank it, with milk no sugar, I invited her upstairs, she took a look around, said the things I had made from the fair were very “bootiful” –  said we had really good reception on the television, said my computer monitor was the largest she had ever seen (It really isn’t that big), said that she loved the color of the sewing room (dark brown), and then she went back downstairs, headed for the door, said “Thank you very much for coffee” and she walked out the door.

And that was the end of that until yesterday. Yesterday she pissed me off. She pissed me off because she knocked on my door 15 fucking times. And you know, you just don’t do that during Phil Spector trial testimony You just don’t. The first time she knocked on the door, it was OK, because she just wanted more coffee. I made coffee, told her I had until 12:30 free, after that I would be busy.

She asked if she could google something on the computer and. since I was kind of surprised she knew what Google was, I said OK.

She googled this book by Yoko Ono called “Marmalade” or “Tangerine” or “Orange Peel” or something like that. Something fruity. She found one on eBay for like $270 and although the description said it was a “first edition” she said they were lying, that this wasn’t a first edition. I just shrugged. What the fuck do I know of Yoko Ono and some fruit shit book? Although it was kind of insightful that she was googling Yoko Ono, wanted a first edition of her book (and really, what sane person wants THAT?) and the only thing she knew of Phil Spector came through the words of Yoko Ono. Which makes a LOT of sense, actually, because if there’s anyone on Earth that I would think was a fucking alien, it’s Yoko Ono – have you heard her sing? The fact that zombie lady next door seems to idolize her is just proof to me that that caterwauling Yoko Ono does isn’t singing – it’s some kind of fucking alien message.

So she googled Yoko Ono, wrote some shit down and then, thankfully, left. Because the trial was starting in like 10 minutes.

An hour later, she’s knocking on the door again, this time she needs to google Vermeer. And she has this huge “History of Art” book under her arm. She says to me “Yes, I google, no?” I said “That’s right, you google no. The trial is on, you’ll need to come back at lunch break. When you see me take the dogs out, you’ll know I’m free.” And I shut the door.

About 10 minutes later, she is back at the front door knocking. She gives me a paper bag. It’s full of ink pens. She says “you nice to me – I give you these. They are pens. I no need pens.”

And she left. And by the way? Half the pens didn’t work.

During the court lunch break, I took the dogs out, and sure shit, here she comes with her book under her arm and she says “I google, no?” And I said – ok – let me check my email and then you can google.

I was intrigued by the whole “History of Art” thing and why she was googling Vermeer, so I had to ask. “Whatchya doin’?”

And you know, nothing good can come of that, either. Don’t ask aliens what the fuck they are doing, just get the fuck out of their way and go to the doctors if you think you’ve been the victim of some alien probe in your ass.

She said that she knew why national Grid had turned her electricity off – it all made sense to her now. She has this “idea” it’s been in her head a while, but lately, I guess the little voices had been telling her that  it was time to put her plan into action – and I guess the little voices told National Grid the same thing, and they *knew* of her plan, and they wanted to “shut her down” before she implemented it.

She has a fool proof technological revolutionary way that solar microwaves (her words, not mine, I’m not even sure if solar rays *have* microwaves), but she has this way for solar microwaves to power battery operated appliances and lights and radios – anything that runs on batteries. This is something she has known for a long long time, and she had a small version of it “running when I was child”.

So she is googling Vermeer because he is “critical to the process” (her words, not mine), and the grant proposal she is writing to get funding to implement her technological revolution will include information about Vermeer and the history of art. And the planet Luna-Tic, no doubt.

Then she had to google statistics on Malone, because she needed to know populations stats and residence numbers and area in miles – because she needed to know how much money to ask the foundation to grant her, since she plans on solar microwave powering THE WHOLE TOWN. And at this point, I was grabbing all the sharp objects in the room and kind of backing away as I said very politely “Oh! You are going to power the whole town?” And very, very seriously she said “Oh, you no worry – I will start here on dis street – we will be power first.”

And I just said “Coffee?” Mostly because I wanted to get down to the fucking kitchen and get my TINFOIL out for the HAT I AM MAKING!!! Good God in fucking Heaven. Why? Why? Why does this shit happen to me?? See what happens when YOU ARE NICE!!! DO YOU SEE???

Today I have decided that I am NOT ANSWERING THE DOOR under ANY CIRCUMSTANCE. Ed McMahon could be on the fucking front porch with a big fucking check and a prize patrol van in the driveway and I am NOT answering the fucking door. Especially if he has Yoko Ono on the car radio.

Advertisements

20 Responses to “Yoko Ono, Vermeer and National Grid”

  1. mbmb said

    Kim…put a sign on your refrigerator to remind yourself whenever you start thinking “WWPD”.
    NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED!
    Once again, you cracked me up…you’re the best!

  2. Valerie said

    OMG Kim i am sooo dying with laughter i almost peed my pants. And yes i can attest that her mail box is in the back of the house and the fucking idiot painted it the same color as the house … of course her mailman can’t find it. This lady is something else. I’m bringing you over the Zombie survial guide… i want you to be fully prepared incase she gets any ideas.

  3. Valerie said

    Natasha is a Russian female given name, originally a pet name variant of Natalia. It is the same as the Latin variant “Natalie”, meaning “birthday” in reference to the birth of Christ, and was traditionally given to girls born around Christmas.

  4. Estron said

    Valerie, you will have to leave the survival guide on Kim’s front porch, because she’s not answering the door.

  5. Valerie, you will have to leave the survival guide on Kim’s front porch, because she’s not answering the door.

    No, I will answer the door for Val. She’s bringing pickles.

    Kim

  6. Natasha is a Russian female given name, originally a pet name variant of Natalia. It is the same as the Latin variant “Natalie”, meaning “birthday” in reference to the birth of Christ, and was traditionally given to girls born around Christmas.

    See – that fits with my theory that she’s Russian, but the Mormons were here this morning and they said that she sounded East Indian.

    I don’t know accents very well, so now I’m going to have to make sure she comes out when you are here so you can let me know what you think – Russian or something else.

    When I asked her where she was from she just said “New York City”, and I know that some parts of NYC have very distinctive accents – but this doesn’t sound like a Goodfellas New York kind of accent. It’s more like that chick in the Bullwinkle and Rocky cartoons. Hey – wasn’t her name Natasha, too?

    Kim

  7. Carolina said

    It sounds like she may be from the Ukraine? She is undoubtably a nutjob. Look at it this way: its still better than living next to a 300 lb. African American woman named “Vanessa Williams” that has 7 kids and deals crack…and wears a blonde Farrah Fawcett wig.

    FYI, I get pretty testy if someone interupts me during Trial Hours also.

  8. its still better than living next to a 300 lb. African American woman named “Vanessa Williams” that has 7 kids and deals crack

    WOW – she sure has gone downhill since her Miss America days!

    and wears a blonde Farrah Fawcett wig.

    And what is it with wigs???

    The alien next door has flame red hair – or so I thught. I mean, I always see her with this flame red hair pulled back into a ponytail – her hair is short, just barely long enought to get it into a pony tail.

    THEN – I see what I think is a NEW woman over there – one with longer blonde/silver/gray hair. And this woman wears glasses – I generally don’t see the alien with glasses on. So I say to Paul “I think there’s *TWO* of them.” Or, you know, maybe she like grew another one in the fucking garden – or dug one up!

    But I was quite confused.

    Then, after Monday when she was actually talking to me, I see her one day with the red hair, and one day with the silver, and she waves at me and says something both times, so I know they are both her. But DAMN! I swear it’s like two different people – she looks so different.

    And now I’m not even sure if she’s naturally the red head and the silver/gray thing is the wig or if she’s naturally the gray/silver and the red thing is the wig.

    Kim

  9. Carolina said

    Ukraine women love red hair!! It’s like American women all want to be blondes..we have a ton of former residents of the Ukraine living in the Pacific Northwest, they love to shop at the Canned food Outlet!! They also wear a lot of clothing from the 40’s and 50’s. Last week I saw a man about 50 dressed in a suit that looked like it was borrowed from Warner Brothers…Victor Mature last wore it in “Kiss of Death”. No kidding it had shoulders at least a yard wide. They also wear those Babushka scarve thingys over their dyed red hair, but they are see-through polyester with shiny threads. It must be kind of a fashion statement!

  10. Charlie Pearce said

    I think you’ve got confused somewhere, Kim. Lunar ticks are from the Moon (the clue’s in the name).

    HTH.

  11. Lunar ticks are from the Moon (the clue’s in the name).

    OK – I believe ya. Now tell me what Vermeer has to do with Solar microwaves. And why he is “critical” to the process.

    Kim

  12. Bill (IObject!) said

    Hi Kim,

    Just wanted to drop you a note that You’re the best. Great insights, great writing, and of course, great humor. I’m just a Spector trial poster but I read you every chance I get.

    KUTGFW!!

    Bill (IObject!)

  13. Valerie said

    I found some information for you:

    Social Life

    The Ukrainians are a gregarious people who will often gather in cafes or street markets to socialize. A common practice is for friends to visit each other at home to spend time chatting over tea. (This could also mean coffee)

    As Ukraine is a largely rural nation, most Ukrainians live in small farm towns. There are relatively few large cities, which are generally not very sophisticated by western standards. (Hence the no power and can eating). As such, the Ukrainians feel most at home in a rural or small town setting.

    This website doesn’t say anything about mug growing. One way you could be sure if she is from the Ukraine is if she has a big party on August 24, Ukrainian Independence Day. LOL

    http://www.ukrainepostalexpress.com/culture.htm

  14. August 24, Ukrainian Independence Day.

    Crap! That’s next week! You’ll have to come over that day and we’ll stand on the porch and wave Ukrainian flags with our red wigs on – If she comes by in her red wig and waves her flag, too, we’ll know for sure.

    Kim

  15. Dave said

    That sounds like quite a neighbor.

    Anyway, you’ve got this covered, right?

  16. Mary C. said

    Anytime I need a really, really good laugh I read your blog.You should seriously consider compling all into a book—would be a BESTSELLER–you could make a million..

  17. jowste said

    If she is Ukranian, she could be related to this crazy cat lady I saw on YouTube who is from the Ukraine and lives with…ready for this? 150 cats in her 2 ROOM HOUSE. Swear to god.

  18. Liz said

    The Yoko Ono book is called Grapefruit, and I own a copy (not a first edition, though).

    -Boron’s kid (Hi! Long time reader, first time poster…)

  19. The Yoko Ono book is called Grapefruit, and I own a copy

    YES! That’s it! I knew it was something fruity.

    Kim ~ longtime admirer of you

  20. WriteOn said

    … And it’s called Grapefruit because it’s composed of a bunch of little bite-sized sections. Truth!

    You’re a great writer, Kim. I love reading your slice-of-life vignettes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: