Gelcoater
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For going on 20 years now I’ve talked or interacted with this guy maybe 3? or 4 times?
Once was to call the Sheriff on him.
He came home shitfaced and his wife locked him out of the house. It reminded me somewhat of the intro to the Flintstones, Fred banging on the door yelling “Wilma!”
To give some sort of privacy from here on out I’ll refer to her as Wilma and him Fred. And, he sorta looked like Fred come to think of it.
Another time, the wife and I had the Jeep loaded with gear, kids and dogs, headed to Wrightwood to play in the snow. As we were leaving we notice this dude passed out, half in the driveway, half in the lawn. It’s night, it’s cold.
We knock on Wilma’s door and tell her her husband is passed out in the driveway.
(Only in the IE)
She says “just leave him there. He’ll come in when he wakes up cold”
The wife and I wake this guy up, he’s confused, stinking like scotch, asking me who I am, where he was, lol.
Another time it was summer. We had a blackout about 18 hours without power.
I wandered a couple houses up the street to Julie’s house to enjoy the hospitality of a cold beer. She had a driveway full of neighbors, including Fred (who had apparently been enjoying her hospitality for some time) and our other at the time neighbor, nameless, the active duty RC Sheriff deputy.
Now, Julie has a pretty steep driveway.
And Fred got about half way down it, gained too much speed (barefoot, in shorts mind you) and endo’d ass over face into our gravel/used to be asphalt road.
I have to admit deputy nameless and I chuckled about it over beers another day.
To add, on another occasion Fred came driving up to his house and had a soccer mom in a mini van pull up behind him berating him for driving drunk!
She followed his ass home and called the cops.
I think that was before the Lexus, was the Magnum he destroyed.
Wilma, I have spoken with more often.
Wilma has a very loud (without trying to be) voice.
Like a drill sergeant loud. And, she’s somewhat built like one.
She walks with another neighbor in the morning darkness, no alarm clocks are needed on this street.
I can’t say I really know her but have had casual conversation on occasion.
On Monday
First there was an ambulance, and Wilma backing her car out so they could get a stretcher in there.
Then a fire truck rolls up.
Then a Sheriff deputy.
Then another fire truck.
Then another deputy.
Then another deputy.
Then the ambulance loads the stretcher and equipment back in the truck.
Then a fire truck leaves.
Then a deputy.
Then the ambulance, empty.
Then everyone is gone but the initial responding deputy.
Fred’s dead.
I’m not sure how to deal with Wilma?
What do you say?
You assume she’s going through some shit, but is she?
I can’t say I’ve seen her since.
If you’re still reading this novel... I wonder if she popped him?
Once was to call the Sheriff on him.
He came home shitfaced and his wife locked him out of the house. It reminded me somewhat of the intro to the Flintstones, Fred banging on the door yelling “Wilma!”
To give some sort of privacy from here on out I’ll refer to her as Wilma and him Fred. And, he sorta looked like Fred come to think of it.
Another time, the wife and I had the Jeep loaded with gear, kids and dogs, headed to Wrightwood to play in the snow. As we were leaving we notice this dude passed out, half in the driveway, half in the lawn. It’s night, it’s cold.
We knock on Wilma’s door and tell her her husband is passed out in the driveway.
(Only in the IE)
She says “just leave him there. He’ll come in when he wakes up cold”
The wife and I wake this guy up, he’s confused, stinking like scotch, asking me who I am, where he was, lol.
Another time it was summer. We had a blackout about 18 hours without power.
I wandered a couple houses up the street to Julie’s house to enjoy the hospitality of a cold beer. She had a driveway full of neighbors, including Fred (who had apparently been enjoying her hospitality for some time) and our other at the time neighbor, nameless, the active duty RC Sheriff deputy.
Now, Julie has a pretty steep driveway.
And Fred got about half way down it, gained too much speed (barefoot, in shorts mind you) and endo’d ass over face into our gravel/used to be asphalt road.
I have to admit deputy nameless and I chuckled about it over beers another day.
To add, on another occasion Fred came driving up to his house and had a soccer mom in a mini van pull up behind him berating him for driving drunk!
She followed his ass home and called the cops.
I think that was before the Lexus, was the Magnum he destroyed.
Wilma, I have spoken with more often.
Wilma has a very loud (without trying to be) voice.
Like a drill sergeant loud. And, she’s somewhat built like one.
She walks with another neighbor in the morning darkness, no alarm clocks are needed on this street.
I can’t say I really know her but have had casual conversation on occasion.
On Monday
First there was an ambulance, and Wilma backing her car out so they could get a stretcher in there.
Then a fire truck rolls up.
Then a Sheriff deputy.
Then another fire truck.
Then another deputy.
Then another deputy.
Then the ambulance loads the stretcher and equipment back in the truck.
Then a fire truck leaves.
Then a deputy.
Then the ambulance, empty.
Then everyone is gone but the initial responding deputy.
Fred’s dead.
I’m not sure how to deal with Wilma?
What do you say?
You assume she’s going through some shit, but is she?
I can’t say I’ve seen her since.
If you’re still reading this novel... I wonder if she popped him?
