I had a Larry Incident yesterday afternoon and the images are still seared on my retinas so I thought I’d share. I wrote a little about Larry on this post and have since found out much more, both from him and from others in the trailerhood.
Larry is an alcoholic, which explains his sometimes lucid, sometimes bizarre behavior. He says:
- he’s off the sauce now
- he doesn’t sleep for three or four days in a row and then sleeps for 12 hours or more
- he is looking at houses in the neighborhood to buy (complete with details about how he would arrange his antique furniture, how much they want for it, how far he’ll talk them down on price, etc., etc., ad infinitum
- he has lots of money
- Lois* is a wonderful woman, but…
- his wife could practically walk on water (she died 3,4,8 years ago – it changes from story to story)
- he has a storage unit full of Great Stuff that he wants to show me so that I can buy some of it (he tells this to every new resident, but said storage unit visit can never be scheduled)
The other residents in the park say only one thing: don’t believe a word out of Larry’s mouth. I’m inclined to believe the majority.
Anyway. I was sitting on the patio yesterday afternoon, minding my own business, not bothering anybody when Larry spied me and ambled over. Sigh. Too late to dart inside. I was stuck and just hoping he would leave after only a very short “visit.”
It was warm and sunny, so I had my shoes and socks off and he spied the tattoo on my right ankle.
“A tattoo?” he said, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah…evidence of my mis-spent youth,” I replied.
“You should see mine!” he exclaimed. “Here, hold Leo’s leash while I take off my shirt.”
Oh, crap! Really?
He unbuttoned his flannel shirt, slipped it off to reveal a yellowing t-shirt with a frayed neckline and pushed one sleeve up to reveal a USMC logo, “Vietnam” and a bare-breasted woman from the waist up.
“Look at that! We were all a little crazy in the service!”
He then pushed up the other sleeve to reveal yet another bare-breasted woman, this one with even more detail and color. He was grinning like I should be impressed seeing his flabby old arms tatted up with titties.
“Well…Um…Those are certainly large tattoos…” was all I could say.
He nattered on for a bit as he put his shirt back on, but I was so traumatized that all I heard was a roaring in my ears. When I mastered my gag reflex I murmered some vague “gotta get going…” sounds and he and Leo left.
Wow. Just wow. On what planet is it appropriate to show a woman you don’t really know (a virtual stranger) tattoos of naked women on your person? Does anyone else think that’s strange? Was he expecting me to get a thrill from seeing half a naked woman on his flabby, cottage-cheese, old-dude arms?
AND. Dude. Buy some clean undershirts, fercryinoutloud! What is it with Old Dudes and their nasty, yellowing undershirts?
The whole incident just felt dirty. Very uncomfortable. What would you have done?
* Lois is my closest neighbor. She raises long-haired Chihuahuas, which are (according to her) pedigreed animals that sell for $400+ to people all over the country. After asking many questions and doing some math, I have concluded that she has 11 (eleven) dogs in her single-wide trailer. AND three cats. NONE (just let me repeat that – NONE) of these animals ever comes outside. Ever. She does not walk them outside at all. Just let that sink in for a minute. Once in awhile one of them will escape and I know they are there because if she happens to leave for any reason they bark. Every minute she’s gone. Without pause. Or maybe they take turns. Hard to tell. It’s a constant din.
October 7, 2013 at 4:04 pm
But you’ve seen Larry almost topless.
You’re not strangers anymore!
October 7, 2013 at 4:05 pm
Thanks for pointing that out, G! I just threw up a little in my mouth.
October 7, 2013 at 7:02 pm
October 7, 2013 at 4:56 pm
Alcoholics are a strange breed. Just think pleasant thoughts. As for the woman with all the animals. I feel sorry for the poor animals. Being inside all the time is not good for the dogs! Me personally I would report her just to save the dogs. Can you imagine what that place smells like?
October 7, 2013 at 5:00 pm
The whole thing is rotting. It’s a mess. An eyesore. I’m sure it’s toxic in there. I haven’t reported her yet because I don’t know how anon it would be. There aren’t a whole lot of people who would know about it, so fingers might be pointed at me and I really don’t want to be run out of the park. This is a very small town and she was born here whereas I was not – that puts me squarely in the “outsider” camp and they don’t like outsiders here. Small town politics, ya know…
October 7, 2013 at 6:56 pm
Oh I know small town politics all too well. Still….I feel so sorry for the animals. 😦
October 8, 2013 at 5:31 am
If ever you hear of someone actually coming by to pick up or meet a dog, call after that! Then they’ll get the blame and you can just feel better for those poor dogs.
October 10, 2013 at 8:07 pm
Great idea! I work during the week, though, and if what she’s said in the past is any indication, she “fell in love with” the pups and they will never leave her trash-heap of a house. Very sad.
October 11, 2013 at 9:55 pm
You’re looking at my future there. I’m going to end up being the crazy dog lady. Of course, I’ll be a slave to my dogs (Bexley can vouch for that, she’s quite spoiled) & I’ll have a yard for them in addition to their regular daily walks.
I’m going to choose to believe that your crazy dog lady has a couple of these things that she cleans regularly.
October 7, 2013 at 7:03 pm
Well I was thinking two things, ask him about Nam (sp?) and ewww. Oh maybe three things poor dogs 😦
October 10, 2013 at 8:08 pm
Many of the men in the park are veterans and I refuse to ask them about their service (with the exception of Russ who seems like a Normal Guy) because they start spewing the Republican or Tea Party propaganda and it pisses me right off.
October 10, 2013 at 8:20 pm
Ohh I understand. I so hate thinking about politics, like you it makes me mad. I’m in Canada but there’s a lot of crap here too.
October 8, 2013 at 4:02 am
Maybe you should feign blindness next time he comes over.
October 10, 2013 at 8:07 pm
How would I explain driving my car? Situational Blindness? Actually, that’s a good idea…
October 11, 2013 at 4:45 am
Indeed. He doesn’t seem like an awfully bright fellow, anyhow.
October 8, 2013 at 5:59 am
October 10, 2013 at 8:06 pm
I know, right? I wish I could un-see it…
October 8, 2013 at 8:48 am
Trailer park living….it’s always “interesting”. 😉 thanks for the story it brings back memories of my trailer park days.
October 10, 2013 at 8:06 pm
I try very hard not to look around very much. I’m lucky in that I’m pretty isolated from those parked in rows and don’t have to look at my neighbors when I poke my head out the door. It’s not bad, just annoying at times.
October 8, 2013 at 10:39 am
Yeah, living with rednecks and losers is a daily grind. And the worst part is they have children at some point–ewww…gee, Sofia; didn’t you know you are supposed to giggle and blush? Mymother did it well, and that’s how she got by….bleh…she hsad to–back then, you didn’t DARE even SHOW repulsion…oh, yeah, and after a certain time, men don’t buy new clothes. They brag about how they have enough clothes until they die, or some such nonsense…brag, brag, brag, …vomit.
October 10, 2013 at 8:05 pm
I am DONE with playing coy! I just don’t have it in me any more. Fuck ’em! It’s not funny. It’s not entertaining. It’s all bullshit and I won’t play that game any more.
October 19, 2013 at 9:45 am
Ewww makes you want to wash your eyes out with bleach huh? Having lived in a trailer before I can completely sympathize. In no way did I want to hear, see or deal with any of the goings on. I found I couldn’t leave my door without someone being “right there” and it started to freak me out. Some days, a mall can seem almost more private.