Just woke up this morning to George, my elderly next-door neighbor ringing the doorbell at my front door. He tells me his wife is dead on the living room floor (she has been dead for years). He asks me who the little girl is standing behind me (no girl standing behind me)? Obviously he needs help, but I have no idea what he needs.

In panic I call triple 0. Then I tell them not to worry because….I do not know what the fuck is going on. Plus, I realize his daughter Margaret lives somewhere on this street. So…I get him back to his house, race up the street in my pajamas to house 12 (that’s the house George told me his daughter lives on). House number 12 ignores me at their door. Obviously that’s not Margaret’s house.

I approach the hippy neighbor across the road and he says they are home. I say they mustn’t be answering cause I look like a freak in my pajamas. The guy acts like I am a total freak, and half acts like my story is full of shit. Eventually he meanders across the road to house 12. When a woman answers the door, I explain the situation. She tells me her next-door neighbor Pat, has Margaret’s number.

So the hippy and I go to Pats house. At Pats door, she is inside getting the number and I say now I have the number I can just call Margaret directly in future emergencies. The fuckface hippy responds by telling me I’ll have to check that with Margaret as he thinks maybe she wont want me to have her number. What the fuck? Does this fuck think I want this situation? Or that Margaret wouldn’t want me to call her about her father in case of emergency? So I ask him. I say, who the fuck are you, the courtesy king?

In good time Pat comes to the door with the number. I call Margaret. I wait with George till she comes back down. Turns out he is on some weird medication at the moment and will be okay in a few days, that she had been with him the last three nights and thought he might be well enough for her to leave. Obviously that was not the case.

Oh and then the police show up at my house RE the triple 0 call and then I have to tell them what happened. Also, I go back up the street to the neighbors who have just been bitching about me to let them know the situation is all sorted now. This is the longest fucking ramble, I know, but I am so goddamned annoyed with how difficult it was to get any help out of my neighbors on the street I grew up on. Really fucking annoyed.



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