Dog screamer-er

Just found out from the nice landlord, in the very well-kept (and super expensive) building across the street, that apparently my weird landlord is not a fan of dogs.

In fact, full-on dog-hatred sounds more accurate. Nice landlord witnessed weird landlord standing on the sidewalk, maniacally screeching at the top of his lungs, telling a little dog to f*ck off. Ok, I will admit some little dogs can be a**holes but c’mon, yelling at a dog? *grrrrr*

Not cool weird landlord, not cool at all. You truly are a freak amongst freaks.
And here I was worried the weirdness might run out. As if.

Time to play “Which door?”

I left out the front door and, unfortunately, didn’t notice weird landlord was sitting out front on his little black stool until it was too late. Inwardly cringing, I smiled and swiftly walked past and defied my VERY strong urge to break into a full-out sprint & scream combo.  I stayed on the side of the street where he couldn’t watch me walk away for an entire block. The thought of his vacuous, dead-fish stare following me, looking up and down the back of my body and thinking whatever disgusting and unnatural things a freak like him thinks, was far too much to bear. It always is.

I regularly alter my routes of ingress and egress from my home based on weird landlord’s location. Another tenant or two and I play this game on an ongoing basis. Let’s say weird landlord is out doing the day-long manual lawnmower ritual; looks like I’ll be taking the side door and walking an extra block to avoid close proximity.

Or, oh no, I drive into the alley and see he’s beside the recycling bins doing something inane and somehow repulsive. *deep breath* Ok, so it looks like it’s time to carry 8 grocery bags up 6 flights of stairs in one trip again since I do not want to come back downstairs and have to fake not being totally creeped out. That is not in my rental contract. (remember to buy a book on power-lifting)