I wrote the other day about a man I call “Billy-goat”. He looks like one. This man has harassed me for 3 years now. He used to live in the same complex I lived in before I moved to the complex I live in now. He now lives in the same complex, too. When I lived in the other complex, every morning he would go to the gas station, sit on the bench and wait for me to come by, and then he would watch which way I went, get on his phone and report which way. If he saw me going toward the bus stop, he’d sit across the street from where the bus stopped and watch me until I got on the bus. Then he’d report what time I got on the bus and in which direction I was going. This went on from 2010 until I moved out of the complex. I haven’t seen him for a few a months and here he is again. He’s back watching everything I do. Every morning I have to think of different ways of getting out of my complex so I won’t have to look at him. There are many ways I can get out of the complex and a lot of times I’m able to avoid him. But there are times when I come out of the complex and there are perps in every corner of the complex, so I usually have to pass by the billy-goat. He sits chewing tobacco and looking like a billy-goat. I’ve called him Bill-goat to his face. He did not seem happy to hear me call him a billy-goat.
And he’s not the only one I have to avoid, there’s the cleaning woman. She’s the same way. I don’t know what this woman does all day. Every time I get out of the elevator, her cart and all her supplies are sitting idly by. And no matter what time of day I come in and out of my complex, there’s her cart with all its supplies. She also has keys to every apartment in the complex and can easily get into mine. Who would question a cleaning woman coming into my apartment? They’d just think she’s doing cleaning in my apartment.
And there’s a guy right next to me who spends all his time electronically harassing me. I’ve called him a few names, which I won’t mention here. They’re kind of nasty names, but he deserves every one of them. When he’s not electronically harassing me, he’s making my apartment a sauna.
And there’s the guy upstairs who spends his day hitting me electronically and heating up my apartment. At nighttime, he puts on heavy Nazi-like shoes to keep me awake. I call him “The Loser”.
And then there are “The Two Bitches”. They’re the women who work in the office. Every time I walk into the office they act very sweet, and their sweetness is as phony as the are. They always want to know what I’m up to. They tape record my conversation with them on the phone. I rarely stop and talk. I enter the office, tell them what problem I’m having with the toilet or stove and fly the hell out of the office.
There are a lot of other perps I can write about here, but this would become a very long, boring blog. I would go on and on and on about the scumbags who inhabit my world, but life is too short to spend anymore time writing about them.
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