Moving to a condominium was a choice. i traded off my hatred of yard work, for my hatred of neighbors living “up close and personal”. Given that i live in a place that is mostly populated by the geriatric set? Their eyesight and hearing isn’t the best, so they really can’t tell what i’m up to most of the time. At least the couple that shares my bedroom wall haven’t called the police. Yet.
In general, i like it here. When i walk the dog at 11:00 pm on a weeknight, it’s pretty quiet. In fact, if i saw lights on in any of the units, i’d be shocked – and probably call the cops because it would have to be burglars. My son dubbed the place “God’s Waiting Room”, where old people live until they can’t change their own diapers. We even have a convenient cemetery located just outside the gates.
But there are a lot of older folks around here – some of the “Get offa my lawn!” variety. These are unfortunately the types that populate the board of the homeowners association. Early on, i tried to get involved with the association – volunteering to write a monthly newsletter. i was told “Oh, John does that for us…” and dismissed.
In nearly two years of living here, John has prepared and distributed exactly two newsletters. He is somewhat frail, and i believe it takes him several weeks to do the typesetting on the Gutenberg press in his basement. He is, apparently, not one of those hip and techno-savvy senior citizens.
So i gave up. It wasn’t until April, when the information prior to the annual homeowners association meeting arrived that i even rememberd i have a homeowners association. A proposed change to the parking regulations got my attention, pissed me off, and ultimately forced me to give away a car temporarily.
“No overnight parking on the street”. That was the rule when i bought the place. Fine. But they never exactly defined “overnight”, so sometimes that meant i’d move a car into the driveway after midnight, and pull it back out at 7:00 am before work. Technically? Complete compliance. For extra cars, overnight parking was allowed in the parking lot of the clubhouse. When the entire clan was at home, and if there were any overnight guests? i had to use the clubhouse parking on occasion.
The revision to the association parking rules proposed in April stated that “No overnight parking at the clubhouse allowed, without written permission from the board. Permission only granted for 30 days at a time.”
Fuck that shit.
A friend was having car trouble, and needed a temporary ride, so i launched one of the shitmobiles in her direction – taking care of automotive stress for both of us… at least until either that shitmobile, or the one i’m currently tooling around in, drops dead. This got my immediate parking challenge resolved, but i was still pissed.
Fast forward a couple months, and it’s now “Pool Season”! We have a lovely community pool, for use by residents and guests. i like the pool. Given the age demographic of the complex, last season, i pretty much had the place to myself, and it was nice…
So far this year, there have been dozens of small children – including a few of the ‘diaper age’ – hanging out by the pool. With their doting grandparents nearby, the little fuckers have seemingly taken over. i don’t mind listening to the sounds of happy kids farting around, but it’s the whiney-assed stuff that makes me want to teach them to swim with bricks.
While i can’t really do much about this, i’ve come up with a plan to at least amuse myself. i am going to purchase a teeny-tiny thong bikini. A small bikini top to go with it – with the fabric that becomes transparent when wet. i am going to sun myself poolside every stinkin’ afternoon and weekend – butt cheeks proudly skyward.
i will then see how long it takes for the condo association police to propose a nifty new “dress code” for the pool area… Wagering is encouraged.