The Wicked Witch of North Texas
This morning the ParaTransit (wheelchair) bus arrived early and I wasn’t quite ready to go. When I finally got outside, I was still officially “on time,” but the bus had been sitting there for several minutes.
The driver lowered the hydraulic lift and greeted me with a question: “Why did your neighbor tell me you don’t live here?”
I was a little taken aback. I am accustomed to greetings like “Hello” or “Good morning.” And frankly, I don’t think of myself as HAVING a neighbor. The Landlord lives on one side and an empty soon-to-be condemned house sits on the other. After a few beats, I realized she meant The Landlord had told her that, and I said “because she’s basically a bad person.”
Which is basically the truth.
Once I was on board, the driver told me that The Landlord had told her that no one lived in the house as we had been evicted. I guess the point was to encourage the driver to leave immediately, thus stranding me without a ride and hitting me with a “no show” on my ParaTransit record. (No shows are punishable by suspension of services, which would well and truly screw me since we don’t have alternate transportation.)
I told the driver a little about the situation and she said “What kind of person does that to someone in a wheelchair?” I didn’t answer this time, but of course, the answer is: A BAD PERSON.
I admit that I can hold a grudge with the best of them, but I have been trying to see people in a more positive light. Most people have SOME redeeming qualities. But The Landlord? Not so much. She lies as a matter of policy, cares only about herself, takes advantage of everyone she comes into contact with, and is easily the most vindictive person I’ve ever encountered in life. And that’s saying something, because I known more than my fair share of bad people.
In the past few weeks, she’s attempted to steal a USPS package, shown exactly how crazy she is in appeals court, pled guilty to assaulting Tim, and tried to divert my sole means of transportation.
I wish I could click my heels and go to Kansas. Not that I’ve ever spent time in Kansas. But I’m pretty sure The Landlord hasn’t either, which makes it an ideal destination.