Last Updated on: 30th May 2021, 04:06 pm

Grrr. Even though I’m calmer now, I’m still fuming. Fume fume fuming.

I took Trixie out for her final business. Just before she did it, I heard a ker smash! Some pea-brained numbnut toolchest asshole decided that it would be jolly good fun to heave a beer bottle from his balcony toward the street. Oh wasn’t that a party? Yo ho ho and a broken bottle of beer. Well a broken beer bottle anyway. When it fell, I yelled up in the general direction from where the sound came. That’s when I heard the nincompoop say it. “She can hear what direction it came from!” You’re damn right I can, and you’d better realize that I may not know which apartment you live in, but I’m sure, by your thoughtless and careless behaviour, you arseholes have a record, and if I tell the super, she can figure out just who you are.

Obviously, I was quite shaken up by this. I have had imbeciles, I think the same ones, throw things before, but this time, I heard them talking about me, too. There was no one else around, so I could be the only “she” they were talking about. I first wondered if it was aimed at me. I’m still not sure. A large part of me just thinks they were being shitheads with no regard for anyone else but themselves. That doesn’t make me feel any safer. You see, this is the kind of situation where we’re more vulnerable. It’s not caused by yammering on a talking cellphone. It’s the inability to see what you’re describing so you can give a full description.

Being afraid to move from the spot because I didn’t know where the glass was, so didn’t want Trixie to step in it, I stood there like a statue. I watched cars drive down the road, and as they neared the stretch of road next to where I was standing, I heard, “Crunch!” There goes one set of tires. Two. Three.

Finally, someone pulled off and asked me if someone had thrown glass near me. I was so happy to see a fellow human, and hopeful that this possessor of eyeballs could help me narrow down where the glass came from. I soon learned that this possesser of eyeballs did not possess a spine. I asked him to tell me where he thought it came from. There were still screaming nincompoops yelling out the window. I said, “Tell me where that is coming from. That over there.” I pointed. “Up there.” I said I need to know so I can report it, because I do not feel safe because this has happened before, but I’ve never had eyeballs around. He whispers. “Stop. They’re looking down at you!” And what are they going to do? Come and attack both of us? Either he can fucking help me, or he can leave me stil wondering where in the blue bloody blazing hell these douchebags live so I can worry about it the next time I’m down here alone. He chose choice b. Thanks, prick. You held a lot of power to help me. You chose to cower in fear. Thanks for leaving me to deal with this without any help. Go back to your fucking car. I hope you drove over enough glass to leave it undrivable, and I hope no one helps you. Have a nice night by the side of the road. Whew. That was a lot of rage.

Not being satisfied with that, I went and talked to my neighbour and asked him to come down with me to see if he could at least give me a ballpark of where he thought the glass came from. He did, and told me there was quite a lot of glass in the middle of the road. Unfortunately, by then, the party animals had retreated inside, so we couldn’t figure out which apartment they were in. As we came back in, we saw a cab with a flat tire, another victim of the glass. They could have hurt so many people. It could have hit a pedestrian, a car, who knows? So I’m not doing this just for me. I’m calling the super tomorrow. She has trouble with English. Hopefully I won’t have to play charades to explain what happened, and hopefully she’ll care enough to do something about it, for the sake of everybody.

Here’s a special note to the shit for brains tenants who live up there. You can’t heave shit off your balcony. and I may be blind, but yes I know what direction it came from, and I don’t just go away! If you do manage to hurt my dog, you worthless scumbags are going to hear about it.

Sheesh! That was a lot of rage. But I think I feel better. We’ll see what happens with the super tomorrow. Hopefully it’ll be something good.

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