Blog

You Can Keep Your Ubers and Your Lyfts—I’ll Call a Cab

It seems that these days, you really can’t do anything without a cellphone. There’s an app for anything, so none of us have to do much of anything of worth but stare at videos of people doing stupid things online for the clicks and the likes. 

Now, you don’t even have to call or hail a cab. No, even that is all at the touch of a button. Everything is automated, and not a bit safer. Believe me, you won’t catch me stuck on the things, tapping away on my phone. I don’t even have a cell phone—I don’t want people calling me while I’m out on business. 

The Neighbor’s Incident

Of course, it’s none of my business what other people do, just like it’s none of their business what I do. As long as they keep out of my way, I keep out of their way. 

Still, that didn’t keep me from getting stuck dealing with the aftermath of a neighbor who took a Ride or Lift or whatever it is they’re called. 

Just the other day, I was enjoying the peace and quiet coming from the only next-door neighbor I have—the joys of living at the end of the street can’t be understated. I’d assumed that they had taken a vacation or, if I was lucky, had moved. The next thing I know, though, they’re hammering and sawing right outside my window. 

I stormed over to catch a few of their friends building some kind of ramp. It turned out that one of them had been in a car accident during a rideshare. She’d broken a leg and hip, so she wasn’t going to do any walking any time soon. 

Following Up 

I didn’t say it, but honestly, what did they expect? It seems like no one these days knows anything about driving. People who do it for a living seem to know even less than they do. So now, she’s stuck getting pushed around in a wheelchair because she thought they were going to be a more trustworthy driver. 

She’s apparently getting compensation for auto injuries she suffered in the wreck, but believe me, she’s deterred me from even considering it. Thanks, but no thanks—I trust my own driving, and mine alone. 

Do I want to see her hurt? Of course not, but at least there’s a little peace and quiet now. The not-so-happy couple have been staying indoors now, at least until the ramp is finished. Maybe now they’ll listen when I say that you simply can’t trust these drivers, no matter how cheap a ride they are. 

A Lesson on Watching Where You’re Going

I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for my take on these cell phones and tablets the kids these days are all carrying around. Frankly, if it keeps them quiet, I usually wouldn’t care. Go ahead, sit in front of the TV and ruin your eyes, see if I care—that’s just fewer people disturbing my peace and quiet. 

It’s the people who get so busy talking and texting that really gives me steam; it just grills my burgers. Here I am, trying to mind my own business and get my groceries and some fool on a phone gets me in trouble. If you’re expecting a story, I guess I aim to please today. 

A Grocery Store Mishap

I’ve been staying in Utah for a couple days, looking for some secluded area where no one will bother me. No one knocking on my door with pamphlets, no friendly neighbors bringing me their weird casseroles or letting their kids loose on my lawn—just peace and quiet. 

Of course, I wasn’t far enough out of the city, clearly. 

It happened on an evening grocery run. I thought I’d just pick up a few things for dinner, and I was about to get my last items and take my purchases and my coupons to the counter. Of course, that wasn’t meant to be. Some guy with a Bluetooth headset (the only thing worse than a cell phone) was talking away, off in his own little world. 

Well, here in the real world, we don’t block the whole aisle to talk about sales quotas. So, I got a little angry, and I whipped around the corner into the next aisle. 

Then, everything went black. 

Slip-and-Fall Accident Recovery

Technically, the property owner is responsible for my injuries. They’ll be the one I need to take to court, or at least, that’s what my Salt Lake City personal injury lawyer keeps saying. 

They should have put out a “Wet Floor” sign warning customers about the conditions. I certainly won’t argue that the owner was a little bit incompetent, letting me get hurt so badly. Now, I’m laid up with a concussion and no chance of doing anything but lying around. 

Still, none of this would have happened if it weren’t for Headset Guy. All he had to do was respect all the other people in the store. But, could he do that? Of course not! That guy is probably still out there, telling lame jokes to whatever poor person is on the other side of the line, causing even more accidents. Really, he’s a menace that should be stopped. 

Of course, I have my doubts that anyone is going to take the damage he did seriously. Oh, it was a slippery floor, they’ll say. Oh, you weren’t paying attention because you were angry, they might add. To which I say, that’s true, but it doesn’t mean this guy isn’t a troublemaker. 

So, keep an eye out for people like this. They just might be careless enough to leave you with a head injury and even more time in Salt Lake City. 

Noisy Neighbors, Noisier Divorce

I’m finally back home, and surprise surprise, the neighbors haven’t changed one bit. I had high hopes that maybe they would have all snuck out and moved while I was gone, but no such luck. I’m still stuck with them, it seems, and they were even all smiley about my return, asking me about my trip. 

Ugh. 

Worst of all, things are just as troubled in paradise as always. This time, though, they’re more vocal and obnoxious than ever. 

I’m starting to wonder if maybe striking out on my own into the wilds of the forest would suit me better. 

The Problem Neighbors 

Now, I myself like to think I’m a pretty respectful neighbor. No brats running around my yard, no pets, no noisy TVs, and so on. I even keep my lawn trimmed to HOA standards, though it looks like I’m the only one. 

Of course, some neighbors are worse than others. I understand all that, but could they keep it down a little? They don’t even have brats to fight over, so I really don’t see what the big deal is. 

Naturally, though, it’s all hours of the night. They used to be the most lovey-dovey couple on the street (again, ugh), but now, it’s basically silence over there, unless they’re yelling at each other. Finally, even my other neighbors started agreeing with me. 

“Are you seriously hashing all this out at two in the morning?” You basically read my mind, buddy. 

The Next Steps

Not that I mind more people moving out, but honestly, these two have me thinking about moving, too. Worse, the lady is military personnel or something, and the rest are worried about how that’s going to drag out. 

Fortunately, I know this military divorce attorney, who cleared up a couple things. “Because  they’re both in the states, filing will be faster. While they might drag out the case in court over property, getting a divorce will be easier because neither are currently deployed.”

It’s barely a comfort, but it’s something, I suppose. At least there’s reason to believe that this isn’t just the rest of my life, right? 

Of course, I’m sure they’ll be replaced by some family or something. It’s never just a nice, quiet person who will keep their nose in their own business. Nope, they either get in my business, or they air out theirs for everyone to hear. Sometimes, you just can’t win. 

What Happens Next

I’m writing this at about six in the morning, since I like to get up early while no one else is up to bother me, and they are still going after each other. See, this is exactly why I never got married. I can barely stand people living next to me. Having someone in my space, breathing my air? Thanks, but no thanks. 

Honestly, I’m thinking about just moving. Maybe somewhere away from any cities, definitely away from these little suburban areas. The convenience just doesn’t outweigh the trouble of dealing with everyone else’s relationship drama. 

So, next time you hear from me, I’ll probably be packing up and moving on. Maybe I’ll even be out of here before backyard barbeque season starts in earnest.