There are some craphole apartments across our alley in the back of our house. A well-place fence has, for the most part, allowed us to completely ignore these apartments and the alley in general. It’s been nice. However, we’ve recently seen this dude that just…stands in his window for the majority of the day.
One day I was taking the trash out. He said something to me, from his second story window in craphole apartment 2-b (or whatever). Even at that distance I could tell that he was drunk, so I did what the next scared citizen would do – totally ignored him. From that point on, he had a name: Creepyguy. Kerry and I have lovingly referred to him that way henceforth.
I didn’t want to live in fear of my alley. That’s just silly. Fearing the general population is a silly way to live. One day I saw Creepyguy out in the alley (drinking some Natty Ice and sitting on a curb, incidentally) as I was driving somewhere, so I waved. He waved back amiably. All was well.
This weekend, my parents came over. It was my Dad’s birthday, and the next day my ‘rents were helping us with a ton of yard work. Well, wouldn’t you know it, there was a ton of mutant weeds out in the alley behind our shed that needed taking care of. Some of them had actually grown higher than the shed. So, I went out back with my father, some shovels, a rake, a saw, and several other implements of weed destruction.
Not five minutes after we started, I heard a voice from the apartment window behind me. @#$%, I thought. “That’s starting to look real nice!” the man said. I said, “Thanks!” and continued working. “I’m Joseph!” he yelled. “I’m Ben, “ I replied. I wanted the conversation to end. It kind of seemed to.
Then Joseph (a.k.a. Creepyguy) came walking across the alley, wearing a pair of work gloves and holding two cans of Natty Ice. He started helping my Dad and I as we cleared the back alley area. Eventually he yelled up to his friend Mark, who was up in the apartment. Mark came down and helped us as well. They seriously saved us hours, and didn’t ask for anything in return. In fact, they gave us beers.
Joseph is a burned out Vietnam vet. He’s incredibly lonely, and just lives off of a pension and therefore has nothing to do during the day. You could tell that he just wanted someone to talk to.
It didn’t end there, though. Through a series of events and excessive friendliness on our part, Joseph was invited via window conversation to come have a beer with us that evening as we chilled out on the patio. I felt that I owed the guy some hospitality after all of the hard work he had done. When he came over, he was smashed. After about ½ hour, I escorted him back out the alley door with a handshake and a goodnight.
Here’s the problem, and I acknowledge that a lot of the problem is within me: I do not want to talk to this guy. He’s lonely, yes, but he creeps me the funk out. I don’t like him watching my back yard. He makes me uncomfortable on my own property. I don’t know how I could possibly get him to stop that either way, but now he (sort of) knows me.
Thankfully, (hopefully) there’s a happy ending. According to Joseph, he’s moving out at the end of this week. He’s going to move to Plymouth to be closer to his daughter. Either way, he’s lived in the back alley apartment a year as of this August, and therefore his lease will be up. Time to move on. I’ve never actually seen a light on in his apartment – I’m not sure if the electricity has been cut off or what’s going on there.
Still, I’m creeped out and feel bad about it. After all, the salt of the earth have their tale to tell as well.
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