Being too nice
There’s a guy in my neighborhood — I believe he lives in a shelter — who comes around and picks up the paper in our yards. He’s seemingly a nice guy, and last week, I told him that I might let him pick up paper each week on Sundays. I was nice to him, and last week I even gave him a banana while he worked.
Of course, you know that’s backfired.
He’s now trying to turn picking up my paper into a full-time occupation. He was just picking up scraps on Sunday. Yesterday, I was out for a while in the evening. When I left, there were about 10 pieces of scraps strewn across the yard, and when I arrived they were gone. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he rang my bell looking for money.
He rang the bell at 12:30 am!!! I was laying on the couch, dozing off, when the doorbell rang. First of all, he found a way to circumvent the locked gate (I’m not so worried about that part. I think I know how he did it.)
I didn’t go to the door, I opened the window near the door and talked to him — and proceeded to set him straight about how he’s never to ring my bell after 8:00, and how he must ask my permission before picking up one piece of paper. He was disappointed, but I was SO pissed off. I wasn’t having it.
This is what happens when you’re too nice. Now I’m going to have to be a bitch just to keep the guy from trying to extort me, and ringing my bell at 12:30 am.
On another note, I encountered my first smelly person on the bus. A guy was standing above me yesterday who smelled like a deadly combination of ass and feet. The worst part is that, when I get off the bus, I always imagine that I’m bringing the smell with me. Yuck.
