With good, long-awaited changes like a cool down in temperatures comes the bad, unwanted change of finding myself suddenly surrounded by obnoxious, inconsiderate people who think the world is their oyster because they are on vacation.
I've always been annoyed that I bought a home on a dead-end road so that I could have some peace and quiet, yet the people who live in the two houses at the blocked off end of the street have more people and vehicles than all the rest of the houses on our street combined. So, I have to put up with just the traffic of those two houses racing back and forth in front of my house all day and night, and these people drive fast with no regard for the potential that there might be a horseback rider, namely me, crossing the street just beyond the blind hill.
Well, they've taken it up a notch. Now they have snowbirds living in or on their property, and the snowbirds brought a yellow, tricked-out golf cart with them. That's fine if they use it on a golf course, but these asses have been taking that thing with a ridiculously loud engine for joy rides back and forth in front of my house every evening for the past few nights. Each time I hear it coming, I walk up my driveway with my hands on my hips to glare at them, and I see different people driving it without a care in the world. They don't even glance at me and consider that drag racing and doing donuts in front of my house night after night might be wearing on my nerves. Asses. That's all I have to say. Asses.
Our street has become a focal point for people who like to joy ride in illegal vehicles, because it is literally the divider between the city and the county. In other words, these people know that the police aren't even sure whose jurisdiction is on the street, so the police just avoid it. The only way I can keep drag racers off my street is to enforce it myself. I've already chased off a drag racing motorcyclist, and a joy riding ATV cruiser who was bored and just looking for someone to tell his life story to by cruising up and down our street staring into people's back yards. Now I've got neighbors who are joy riding on our street. I'm so lucky.
Unlike city streets where the city owns the streets and is responsible for maintaining them, in the county or country, people own the street in front of their house and we, the homeowners, are responsible for maintaining the street. So, every time some jerk comes along and drag races or does donuts, leaving behind ruts and scattered driveway rocks, we have to clean it up. As is, our mail carrier has been messing up our driveway on a daily basis by peeling out away from our mailbox, and we are totally sick of suffering the consequences for that one.
During the summer I had to deal with this one man coming around who was considering buying my neighbor's house, except he didn't like the neighborhood. Anyway, he'd do drive-bys or just park in front of the house or in the back of my house and sit there for hours on end like he was doing a stake out of the neighborhood. He drove me bananas. He was so worried that the neighborhood wasn't quiet or private enough for him that he essentially took our quiet and privacy away from us by constantly driving up and down the street and parking to watch what all the neighbors were doing. Total creep. The homeowner finally put pressure on his real estate agent for him to make a decision or move along. Thankfully, he chose to move along. I'm sure my neighbor would have loved to sell her house, but I wouldn't want to live next door to a stalker again.
I've been having no problem walking right up to a banker's desk or a teller's window all summer, but now I have to fight over parking spots and stand in line or put my name on waiting lists. That's how quickly the population multiplies come October. Not being able to quickly take care of business at the bank is usually one of the first indicators that the snowbirds are arriving. When it's really bad, we can't find a parking space at the market and every shopping cart is in use. I try to cut our marketing down to twice a month, and just not buy perishables when they are here.
But sometimes I feel like I need to take a vacation to get a break from all the stress caused by all the people vacationing in our area. More and more of them are wising up to the fact that the locals detest them, so they are keeping a car here with in-state license plates, hoping that they won't stand out as much. However, the way they dress and talk still gives them away. Locals actually wear jeans and long sleeves in the cooler months. People from cold states wear Bermuda shorts and tropical shirts. This summer I had a banker give me his business card and tell me that I can call him and set up an appointment to bypass all the snowbirds, so thankfully, the businesses are starting to give locals a priority pass. That should ease some of the tension.
Another sign that the snowbirds are pouring across the border is when I have pilots doing stunts over my house. I hate that. I suspect that most pilots believe that everyone thinks they are cool and that we enjoy a free air show, but all it does is piss me off. Some of those plane and helicopter engines are super loud. I don't mind if someone flies an aircraft over my house and keeps on going to some destination, but there are a lot of idiots out there who are just flying around for fun and entertainment.
When I'm trying to work with a horse, and some yahoo is circling me or doing loop-de-loops or dive bombing me in my arena, I start shaking my fist and flipping the bird. I think it's time that the government hit the upper class with a big tax hike, because nobody needs a toy airplane. If you have a career that requires you to travel and are rich enough to buy your own jet, awesome, but if you are retired and have nowhere to go, and just spend your time harassing people on the ground because you are bored, I'm all for letting Uncle Sam dip into your pockets.
My husband and I went to see the musical "The Book of Mormon" this past weekend. The creators of South Park had their hands in on it, and I laughed until I cried. A lot of the humor was raunchy, offensive, and even X-rated, but I think the fact that it was so over the top for a stage musical is what made it even funnier.
What wasn't funny was that the theater seats were designed for college students, and I could barely squeeze my middle-aged fanny into one. Then I was sitting next to a young, heavyset guy who had been drinking and had bad breath. Each time he laughed I could taste his breath and literally got nauseated and got a headache. Then he started farting. Oh my God! Why don't people take gas pills before going into a crowded theater? I did, and I didn't even have gas. I just took the pills to be considerate of others just in case I developed a case of gas. I sat there plugging my nose with my fingers or covering my mouth with my hand for three hours. I didn't even care if he noticed. I wish I had some breath mints to force on him.
My husband loves to go to the movies, and I almost always decline because I don't like being crammed into a room with hundreds of other people who are breathing on me, coughing on me, farting on me, kicking my chair, crunching popcorn in my ear, crinkling candy wrappers so loudly that I can't hear the dialogue of the movie, and slurping soda through straws. But I've also developed a deep-seated fear of being trapped in a theater while some crazy gunman shoots an automatic weapon into the audience. I was in the iHOP restaurant in Carson City, Nevada shortly before a gunman went in there and shot some diners, and I had a premonition of the event. I thought it was just my wild imagination until I drove past the restaurant later, saw the police in a shoot out, and saw the story on the news. Ever since then, I always look for the closest exits whenever I enter a building.
I know I shouldn't live my life in so much fear, but people have proved to me over and over that our human race is the cause of the majority of our problems. I watch those reality TV shows that take place in Alaska and see all the trouble that the bears and wolves cause for the residents, and I always think that at least they can kill them. Where I live, people cause all the trouble and we just have to tolerate it.
I came home from the theater with a head cold and took some NyQuil. I'm seeing the show a second time with a friend. This time around I'll be sure to bring some pain killers and a sweater. Not only did I get a headache, but because we were on the balcony, we were seated right under an air vent that was blowing ice cold air onto us. I would have much rather had the air blowing on us than to have it be stuffy, but our heads were just below the vent, so it was pretty intense. It's hard to get good seats if you aren't a season ticket holder. By the time ticket sales are opened up to the general public, the only seats left are in the back of the balcony under the vents or on the far sides of the aisles where people walking in and out of the theater block your view of the stage. At least we were back and center. However, we were so high up that whenever a character stood on a pedestal, his head was cut off by the set and we couldn't see him. Hopefully, the seats my friend got will give me a different view.