Ann Geiger is the woman who removed the hair from my face. She died, and I should have seen it coming. I'm not sure I could have stopped it, but I could have tried. I wish....... She was a good friend. One day she said to me that she'd never finished one, and it didn't make sense, so I didn't think much of it. She was talking about people like me, she'd never completely finished a face, but she was close with mine.
I finished a bunch of work on her car, at my expense, and she went out and bought this huge boat of a car from another friend. It was nice, didn't have many miles on it, but she needed the cash to pay the rent on her office, and her apartment, and she didn't need the car. She sold me her car that I'd just done the brakes on, for cheap, and I drove it for a few years. I wasn't real happy about that boat of a Ford, but I couldn't see the hand writing on the wall. Then she went and had all her teeth pulled, paid for by medicaid, supposedly so she could have perfect dentures, but I knew something was wrong with that, she liked her teeth.
It took her a while, a couple of weeks or a month to get up the guts to finish the plan. A couple of times she told me to never let anybody pull my teeth. Why did she get all of them pulled, if she liked them? I think she did it to get the pain medication. And I think she then took ALL of it at once, on a Friday. I was supposed to see her that Friday, but she didn't show at her office, so I went home and wondered why she didn't show up. We lived in the 2 halves of a duplex, and had keys to each others sides, we were pretty good friends, it didn't occur to me that there was something wrong if her car was in front but she wasn't around. All my life people have patronized me, and told me I'm smart, but I'm not. I'm really pretty slow, pretty stupid.
On Sunday, I finally went into her side of the duplex, and started calling her name. No answer. I went from the bedroom to the living room and back 3 times, before I looked into the bathroom as I went past. She was cold and stiff. She died sitting on the john, and sort of 1/2 fell into the bath tub. So I called the cops, and they put on what Ed Sullivan used to call, 'A really big sheeww.' You'd think they get a raise for flying through a quiet neighborhood with bells on, when it's not necessary.
The landlord started whining that he'd have a hard time renting Ann's side out because of me, and he wouldn't fix the 2 fire hazard electrical problems in my side, so I lost it and told him that Wisconsin law calls for 28 days notice in the absence of a written lease, and I was leaving. I left my pet birds and squirrels, and moved to an apartment complex that was a dog place so I could get the fellow sleeping on the bed next to me as I write. He's now 13, the vet figures he's a Great Dane/German Shorthair. By the way Jack (that landlord), do you disclose that a woman died in that place, as specified by Wisconsin law, when renting it out? You don't? Why does that not surprise me.
Now the dog and I live in a perfect setting, except..........................
I wanted a mailbox out on the road like the people across the road have. So far, I have complained to a senator in writing and a congressman over the phone, because this postal clerk who claims she's a former cop, and her husband is a current cop, threatened to sick her cop husband on me because she didn't like my attitude. If I don't like not being able to receive mail, I should leave the area. Sweet, a personal vendetta against me by a cop over a fucking mailbox. Life sure is cheap here. Yes, I will tell you to put the gun up to my forehead and pull the fucking trigger. If possible, I will have it filmed. Would you do it officer? There is no doubt in my mind. Do smile for the camera! AND DO BY ALL MEANS BRAG ABOUT IT TO YOUR CHILDREN, THEY SHOULD KNOW WHO YOU ARE, AND WHAT YOU'RE REALLY ABOUT!
Have I lost the perfect place for the crime of wanting a fucking mailbox. I'm sure I have. Not tomorrow, not next week, but you'll make it so. Do I want your job, Postmaster, postal clerk, and cop? Yes I do. If you're going to hate me, you should hate me for some greater reason than that I'm an outsider.
