You don't have to hang around here long to know that I've got some serious asthma, and some other weird ass lung issues that cause me to be somewhat miserable a good portion of the time.
I don't feel sorry for myself, it's just one of those things I deal with. I don't go places with smoke, I don't allow people to smoke in my car, but generally I'm not an asshole about it. It's not the rest of the world's problem that I have crappy lungs.
That being said, I'm still kind of an asshole. When I can't breathe it makes me crabby, which I'm used to. But god help everyone if I haven't had any sleep. I turn into a colossal bitch, and I have been known to make people cry. I'm not kidding. I made a politician tear up because I was tired, and god damn it he started it. I do not fuck around when I'm tired.
In my apartment complex, it's against the rules to have any sort of grill anywhere near the building. No one ever really listens, and that's fine. However, there is this particular Mexican family that lives in an adjacent building that likes to grill right under my windows.
The first time, I nicely asked them if they could move about six feet to the left. And when I say "nicely", I mean just that. I am always nice at first. I told them I wasn't trying to be a pain, and I explained my lung situation and how the smoke gets into my apartment and makes me very sick.
He tells me they are almost done. Fair enough.
It happens again. I ask them again, very nicely, if they could inch it over. Again I explain that I have very bad asthma, I am very allergic to the smoke and I will wind up in the emergency room.
Again he tells me that he's sorry, he forgot. Does not move an inch.
The other day, he's grilling again. I don't know if that's the only way he knows how to cook or what, but again right under my window.
And again I walk down there and ask nicely if they could move just six feet over from my window.
This time, he looks at me and promptly tells me to fuck myself.
Well OK then. I walked back upstairs, while he proceeded to grill under my window for four fucking hours. I don't know much about this kind of thing, but I'm pretty sure after four hours whatever the hell you were cooking is done. He could've stuck an entire cow on that thing and it would be done in less time.
And because of that, I was up all night doing breathing treatments and popping steroids so I could stop wheezing. Trying to prevent a trip to the Emergency Room.
This does not make me happy. Staying up all night strung out on steroids is only fun if you're a profesional baseball player.
As I was hauling my sick ass to work, I noticed. The grill was still there. Under my window. But Paco was nowhere to be found. He left it under my window. Insult to injury.
Now, I am not a vengeful person. I am one of those people who is nice until I'm just not anymore. And I did ask him nice three times. The forth time I do not ask and I am not nice. But I'd never do anything to anyone else's property that I'd admit on a public forum.
All I know is that the grill is now missing, and I can only assume that someone who was angry with the owner maybe left a note saying "Please Pick This Up" on it after dragging it over to the dumpster. But that's pure speculation as I'd never, ever do anything like that.
So I think my neighbor learned a few important life lessons that day.
1. You should pick up your things after you're done using them.
2. Being a good neighbor only makes your life easier.
3. Don't ever piss me off when I'm sick and tired. It only ends in tears.
4. Don't pick on people who wake up earlier than you do.
5. You should be careful who you tell to fuck off.
So, in response to his suggestion when I asked him the third time to please move, I feel the need to say the following:
Fuck me? Fuck me? Oh no, my little bean eating friend. Fuck you.