Skeeuuuuz meeeee!

Last night I was making dinner (lovely little stir fry with chicken and veggies, healthy and tasty) when I heard the man get up and open the front door. It didn't phase me, so I carried on with my stirring and frying. Then I heard him holler from the doorway, "Duke got out, he's walking up the street." Door closed, I kept stirring. Turns out that big horse of a dog pushed his way under the fence in the front yard. There's a portion that's a little loose and pretty easy to bend outward. He'd never shown an interest in getting out of the yard when he's not on his leash before, so we never even thought of making sure it was secure to the ground the whole way round the yard. Guess we'll have to revisit that option in light of last night's festivities.

Anyway, the man went out, called his name, and the dog came galloping back home like it was no big deal. He just wanted to see what else was out there, I guess. Can you blame him? It didn't really bother me, didn't make me worry that he's going to try to escape all the time or anything. We just have to get some stakes and make sure the fence is reinforced sometime this week. No biggie.

What bothered me was that I asked the man this morning how he knew Duke had gotten out because I didn't hear a knock at the door or anything like that. He said that the neighbor lady was standing outside yelling, "Skeeuuuuuuuz me, skeeeuuuuuuuz meeee!" over and over until he came out. Um, OK. Let's think about this for a second. You're the neighbor lady, you're outside, on a residential street, where there are at least 5 houses within earshot. You see that your next door neighbors' dog has somehow freed himself from the confines of his yard and you want to alert the people to such discovery. So do you go to the door and give a knock? Nope. You stand outside, yelling repeatedly until someone emerges from the house. Does this make a whole lot of sense? I wonder how many other neighbors came outside just to find out that she wasn't yelling to them. But how would they have known that from inside their homes? Just come to the damn door, woman.

But then again, you just might want to stand out there and yell since that's what will bolster the image of the neighborhood as slightly better than a public housing project. Go ahead, keep it up. You're probably in cahoots with the lovely family in the car ahead of us in the Church's Chicken drive-thru line Saturday night. I bet it was your idea to have them throw 4 fast food drink cups out the passenger window in order to make room for the ones about to be loaded into their car. It was extra special since the kids were in the car. Great example to set. Nice. Real nice. "Hey ma, we don't gots no room in dis cup holdah." "Dat's OK, baby, jus trow des ones out da windah. Some utha foo will clean it up. An if dey don't, I don't give a shit anyway."

I'm all for being true to yourself, be you and be authentically you - I applaud that. But when the you you're choosing to be is a disrespectful asshole I don't want to be around you. And by the way - stereotypes exist for a reason. You act indignant and insulted when someone makes a comment about poor black folks on welfare not living up to their potential. A-hem. If we would have been anywhere else I would have gotten out of the car, picked up that trash, and handed it back to them. But you know what? Since we're in Miami I probably would have ended up with a bullet in my white ass, so no such behavior from me.

Well, I guess the positive upswing from the end of last week went steadily down the toilet. Sorry about that. It's Monday. I need at least until Tuesday to be in a good mood. Actually - there is a super great thing to be positive about... the man cleared out the dining room for me this weekend so I have room to sew. I got up yesterday morning and he had been at it for an hour already. He moved everything out and we're going to get a table so I can have a cutting board and not break my back crouched down on the floor to cut my fabric. He loves me. It feels really good.