211. The crazy drunk lady in our complex, named after her beverage of choice
The Sheltie Lady–She’s an ordinary-looking dumpy middle-aged lady. He’s a nice-looking Shetland Sheepdog. And at any time of the day, in any season, and in almost any weather, you’re likely to see them standing on the sidewalk by the big cemetery up on East Broad Street in Westfield, NJ. The sheltie just lays there watching the cars go by. The Sheltie Lady just stands there holding his leash. And that’s all they do.
Except…one day I saw her talking on a cell phone while she was standing there. I was so excited that I had seen her doing something different!
POMBA(Pompous, Overbearing Message Board Assholes)- You know the type, always nitpicking grammatical errors, pointing out spelling mistakes, etc. I feel that they are just bitter people who never achieved the goals they set and want to seem superior to everyone else.
The Surly Waitress. We used to be seated in her section back at the old China Coast on Howe Road, and she was just barely on the edge of polite. Then China Coast went out of business, and we thought we would see her no more. But yes! She was hired at the Olive Garden! Just amazing that she would stay in a profession she so clearly disliked. She never screwed up orders or was out-and-out rude, she was just . . . surly.
Me and Wolf (that’s my boyfriend) once had the dubious blessing of living in a pestilent residential hotel, located in a neighborhood many consider to be the armpit of San Francisco.
Directly above us on the next floor there lived a gentleman named Henry.
Before much time at all had passed, there were two things about Henry that we knew for certain. One was that he apparently juggled safes and bowling balls and great big cement flowerpots for a hobby; the other was that he had many vehement differences of opinion with one or more persons who would neither go away nor shut up. His side of the argument was usually some variation on “God DAMN you! Leave me ALONE, fucking BASTARD, I HATE you! Shut up! FUCK OFF! GOD DAMN YOU TO HELL MOTHERFUCKER!” delivered at a volume a bull of Bashan might envy. Whoever these quarrelsome ogres were, they were never close enough for normal conversational volume OR totally out of earshot, because you heard Henry’s end of thing at all hours, sometimes 24 of them at a stretch. In no time at all, our vociferous co-tenant was known to the two of us as Hollerin’ Henry, a soubriquet I was indiscreet or insensitive enough to use in conversation with those of our friends and acquaintances who lived in the same flophouse. Afterwards, if they had occasion to speak of him at all, they called him Hollerin’ Henry too. It quickly became his nickname throughout that entire dosshouse, and one he damned well brought on himself, too,
At work we have:
80’s guy -So named because of his mullet, sunglasses and jeans. He looked like he stepped straight out of an AH-HA video. His name has recently changed following a sort of makeover. He is now 90’s guy.
Sleeveless -A cleaning guy in my building who does not own a shirt with sleeves. It doesn’t matter what time of year, what the weather, he is always sleeveless.
Shirtless -a patient (psych hospital) who goes out for his afternoon smoke and takes off his shirt to lay on it.
Deer-in-the-headlights Debbie -A nurse who happens to look like a deer in the headlights. I don’t know how she holds her eyes open so wide.
I think my husband is known as the lollipop guy at our local bank. If I go with him, they always ask him if he’d like a lollipop, or they just assume he does and give him one. In 10 years of using this bank I have never been offered a pop unless I had one of my young kids with me.
Cyborgs – People who are very conspicuous in their use of Bluetooth earpieces. They wear them always, and are often on “I’m a businessman!”-type calls (you know, the people yapping stuff like “So I talked to Bob and he quoted thirteen-five, and I said no effing way, Bob, you’ve known me longer than that, and…”. I used to work in a Staples copy center, and we’d get several of these people every day who wouldn’t pause their conversation in order to talk to us.
“'20s Girl” and “Cowboy Boots” are regulars on the bus route my wife and I take to work.
“'20s Girl” is a tiny little birdlike girl with pale pale skin and black black hair, who dresses like she just stepped out of the 1920s. She always seems very nervous.
“Cowboy Boots” has clothing and grooming that makes it appear he’s going for a Wild Bill Hickock kinda thing. He also has double hearing-aids and some sort of disability that makes him choose the elevator over the stairs when the escalator is out of service.
“Nai Nai” is a super friendly little old chinese lady that we pass every morning on the way to the bus stop. She always has a bright “Good morning!” for us and we exchange one or two words as we pass.
About 12 years ago, a large family nicknamed me Middle Finger Man.
I was doing Karate, and this large family with lots of kids was a fixture there. One day I’m running late for class with this big old crappy van cuts across the front of me and putters along at 20mph in a 40 zone. I couldn’t get around them because of all the other traffic zipping past. Then they stopped on a green light, which had been green for a long time, and sat there until it turned red. Then she lurched forward and stopped, realizing she’d missed the actual green light. I think she was too busy dealing with all the kids. When the light turned green, they didn’t move, and I honked at them. She proceeded to drive at 20mph again, whereupon I got angry and flipped them the bird. Wasn’t until I did that when one of the kids I recognized turned around and looked at me. Damn, sorry I did that, but seriously woman, pay attention to the road and drive something closer to the posted speed already!
For months afterward, I had this pack of 5 to 8 year old kids calling me “Middle Finger Man” at the Karate School. I successfully resisted the urge to call their mom “Can’t Drive For Shit Woman” or something worse.
Mr. Sketchy - This guy has taken the Ronkonkoma -> Penn Station train every day for at least 10 years. He stands in the same exact spot on the platform, waiting for the exact same train every day, wearing a grey hoodie and looking like the Unabomber the whole time.
The Ogre - This old dude with a hump and a King-size attitude stands at the 34th Street Station stop for the 1/9. Like Mr. Sketchy, he stands in the same spot waiting for the train. Unlike Mr. Sketchy, he’s outwardly hostile if you try to line up on the platform anywhere close to him. Rants to himself incoherently and frequently. Has a bad comb-over and a disgusting accumulation of neck hair.
The Glimmer Twins - Are always seen together in what might be a late 1980s Nissan Pulsar NX. I’m not sure. There are so many shitty ground effects on this car, it’s tough to tell. If it’s sunny and warmer than 60 degrees outside, they’re out there somewhere with the T-tops removed, sticking their tits out and driving like utter maniacs while whooping it up and blasting mid-90s club music on a crappy stereo. You will see them and narrowly avoid an accident trying to keep out of their [del]cleavage[/del] path. The very next time you see them, the other one will always be driving. It’s like they’re holding a competition to see which one can get as close as possible to Darwinizing herself and her fellow twin.
Oh I’m so glad that we’re not the only people who do this. 
The people in my court are:
Peg-leg - He lost his leg in a motorcycle accident.
Jehovah lady - kind of obvious.
The muppet - the strange man who lives with Jehovah lady. He looks & talks like a muppet.
Crack whore - lost a LOT of weight fast after a drug dealer moved next door.
Game Boy & Game Boy junior - Crack whore’s kids…The oldest is never without his game boy, even when playing tag. GB jr is just a little version of GB.
Gene - The strange guy who is a Gene Simmons impersonator, and not a very good one.
Mrs. Gene - his (now ex) girlfriend (the aforementioned drug dealer)
Psycho - The Polish mail man at the end of our row who is, quite seriously, psycho. He lives 5 houses away and I can hear him screaming IN HIS HOUSE, daily. Then he usually drives around the court like a maniac.
Now, I know some of these aren’t very nice or PC, but hubbyy & I never call these people that in earshot of anyone but eachother. It’s sad that we’ve lived here for 5 1/2 years and only know the two kids right across from us, their parents, and the woman two houses over.
The No-See-Ums: this family has lived across the street for many years, but they are rarely if ever visible. Sometimes there are vehicles in the driveway. Somebody is turning on the faucet for the hose so the sprinkler can run. But no people.
Little Miss Thing: an impossibly thin, bleach blonde woman with high heels, a BMW, and a young son.
Jimmy the Drug Dealer: self-explanatory.
Green Car Transaction Guy, formerly known as Weird Sitting-in-his-van guy: He used to sit in his van out in front of his house, listening to music. Recently, he switched to a green car with a souped-up engine, and he spends his days zipping around from his house to a liquor store to some crappy apartments to a local park. My neighbor saw him doing some sort of transaction–you know what I mean–with somebody in front of the aforementioned liquor store. He makes at least 50 trips a day.
Leftover Hippie and His Long-Haired Son: self-explanatory.
Porky Pig: Not because he’s bald and pudgy (which he is) but because he has a pronounced stammer.
Shouldn’t she be Shannon?
Here at work we have:
Jeep Girl–A rather attractive lady who pulls up in her topless jeep with only a sports bra and shorts. She then changes before coming into the building. My coworkers are quick to display their unprofessionalism at these times by glueing themselves to the windows.
Jogging Girl– an EXTREMELY attractive jogger in her 20’s in our downtown. Also in sports bra and shorts.
Leo– I see this guy on the way to work. Has rather leonine hair and beard.
At my gym there’s:
80’s Lady–She looks about my age (38) but stills dresses and wears her hair like it’s the 80’s. At least she leaves off the leg warmers.
Gravy Lady– A very tan old lady whose skin looks like the skin on a bowl of cooling gravy.
**Tittie Woman-- ** Very large, very fake. 'nuff said.
When I worked at a grocery store we had:
**Frog Lady (or Ribbet)–**short with wide, frog-like face and super thick glasses that gave her frog-eyes. She was a pain in the ass which is why she got a nickname. but it was her looks that determined the actual name.
Country Club–A woman who thought that living next-door to a country club kept her shit from stinking. She would actually snap her fingers and call you “boy” when demanding that you bag her groceries. And she expected you to drop whatever you were doing for other customers in favor of her needs. She would tip the bagger a nickel if he was lucky. Sometimes, she’d give you a tennis ball that fell in her backyard from the abutting tennis court. An old tennis ball that was gray on one side from spending the winter on her back lawn.
I went to college with Black Man with Gold . He was much older than the average college student, had a heavy accent of some sort, wore colorful, expensive suits, was black and had a lot of gold jewelry.
Kid Kalhoun and I had a neighbor who we saw just once when we were living in an apartment. We called him The Dead Guy because we imagined the authorities removing a partially liquified body from his apartment some day. One day I looked out the window and saw Kid Kalhoun sniffing under the door for the undeniable scent of rotting flesh.
Whiny Homeless Girl was a teenager who sat on corners of Broadway in Seattle, begging for change in the whiniest voice I ever heard. Occasionally I’d see her on the bus, sitting next to her boyfriend and endlessly nagging him in that same whine. (I don’t think he later became the crazy knife-wielding decapitating bus rider, but it wouldn’t surprise me.)
After a couple of years of this, one day I saw Whiny Homeless Girl walking down Broadway with an older couple and a younger boy, pointing out different shops, cafés, etc. Yep…her family was in town and she was giving them a tour, in her usual whiny voice. Surreal.
I’d never disrespect Shannon Tweed that way! This woman is…umm…well, lets just say she’s a little rough around the edges.
**The Annoying One ** - a coworker who seems to irk almost everyone.
The title must be said very gravely in a deep deep voice. (okay - not a stranger, but I don’t always play by the rules)
**The Mayor of Arrowhead Blvd ** - our neighborhood greeter.
photos and story
Turtle Lady: My walking pal and I just nicknamed this one last night. A very nice, older Asian lady who spends a lot of time in her lovely garden and yard. She has a pet water turtle and two very large artificial tortoises by her front step.
Whayaname?: this small girl lives in a cul-de-sac and, whenever she saw me walking there, she would ask me what my name was, but she did not enunciate very well. I do, in fact, know her real name, but prefer the nickname.