This week's prompt is (a little late) about people-watching, and telling the story of a stranger, like another customer in the supermarket, or a neighbor. See the full prompt here at inkpaperpen.
I chose neighbor, because they are completely insane. They must have something wrong with them to act the way that they do. I cannot create a conflict for them simply because I cannot begin to fathom what actually rattles around in those hollow skulls. Here is just a snippet of their cuckoo antics...
Oh, and side note: I wanted to get some pictures, but my camera battery is dead and it's currently raining.
We live in a court; an odd-shaped, half cul-de-sac, and our house is the last one on the block. The Crazies, "Aaron" and "Amy" live right next door. Our driveway is long and winding, and their driveway is one of the half-circle types, which just happens to connect to the bottom of ours.
(Imagine a driveway picture!)
Right adjacent to the driveways is a telephone pole, complete with the usual wires. (Imagine a telephone pole picture!) One day a few months ago, A and A decided they needed some work done on their "Private Property." Yes, they think that because they own the house that they live on "Private Property," complete with at least two signs claiming so -- one so passive-aggressively pointing directly at our house, where it is only visible by us as we leave the driveway. (Imagine a "Private Property" sign picture!) Unbeknownst to us, whatever they decided to do included messing with the wires, as our cable was almost entirely cut out, with only a few channels continuing to work properly.
Of course, this resulted in a phone call from us to the cable company, asking them to come out and inspect our lines, as at this point we were unaware of the cause. Some guys drove out, and apparently this is where all hell broke loose for the Crazies.
The workers were simply doing their jobs and performing their normal job duties, but A and A seemed to think the opposite. The guys were up on the pole, checking things out, when one A (or both As, I don't even remember at this point) barreled out of the house, yelling at the workers to get off their property.
"You can't do this! You can't be here! This is private property; you need to leave!"
I'm not kidding. They think the freakin' telephone pole on the street is their property. Not only that, but they are still claiming that they live on private property - which they do not. Even if they did, the poles on the street do not belong to them. Ummm.. HELLO??!
The workers - tons of sympathy for them for dealing with these maniacs - calmly attempted to explain to the Crazies that it was not private property, that they had every right to be there, and that the Crazies did not in fact, own the telephone pole or anything else on the street. The Crazies of course had no intention of buying these ridiculous words as fact, and continued on screaming like banshees. Poor guys. My heart goes out to them.
My stepfather, Lee, who is 6'1" and nearly 300 pounds of muscle, had no choice but to come outside to diffuse the madness. The Crazies were still yelling, but Lee eventually coaxed (or possibly forced, who knows) them back inside and apologized to the innocent workers.
This is just a small chapter in the novel of dealing with the Crazies. Many other stories exist. Hmm, I should write a book.