I need to tread carefully, scary animals and tender hearts are afoot

You can’t tell by this grainy photo (taken thru my dining room window’s screen of the street below) but I just had an angry run-in with the young black man below.

He’s holding a leash, and on the other end of it is a brown & white Pit Bull, one of the largest I’ve ever seen.  His snout is level with the drawstring of my pants.

I know this firsthand, as a couple days ago I was waiting for the elevator to go downstairs, the doors opened and without thinking I got on—only to be greeted by this dog’s nose in my crotch.

A young, round black woman was holding his leash, and said “His name is Pilot, he needs to smell you when he meets you for the first time, sorry!” 

I just stood there, frozen—what is a Pit Bull doing on our elevator?  Dogs are not allowed—shortly after I moved in here in 2017, a young man with a mini-beagle was asking people to sign his petition allowing his dog to stay.  (I can still remember the dog’s name—Doyle.)  We all loved Doyle and his owner with a New England accent, but Steiner said nope and they moved out.  So what was this?

I said “Are you visiting someone here?”  She said “No, we just moved in a couple days ago.”  I said “With a Pit Bull?”  She said “He’s my emotional support animal.”  

BULLPOOP.

The next day, I’m in the lobby getting my mail and a couple other residents are down there, talking about the dog.  They asked me what I thought.  A young black man (the one in that photo above) entered and checked his mail.  I told Dave, Samantha and Mrs. Win I wouldn’t ride the elevator with that Pit Bull again.  They’re banned in many countries for a reason! 

The young man turned around and said “You people have a problem with a DOG?  That’s cold.”  I said “No, we have a problem with a PIT BULL.”  The man says “IT’S MINE.”  I said “Everyone here is afaid of it, I am too.” 

He just stood there and glared at me, then left the lobby.  Dave said “That didn’t end well…”   I guess not but I don’t care.  I want Pilot the Pit Bull gone.  

On the flip side, I’m at a bit of a loss on what to do with another neighbor, Lida. She’s in her upper forties, single and intellectually disabled.  (In the old days, we would say mentally retarded.)  But she’s sweet, funny and I think she likes me a little more than she knows what to do with.

The night before Easter, I heard a small shuffling sound outside my front door.  When I looked thru the peephole, I saw her pacing back & forth.  I waited another minute to see if she’d knock, looked thru the peephole again and she was gone.  When I opened my door, I was startled to find her on her hands & knees, trying to slide the card below under my door. 

Here’s the inside of the card, she’s quite the handwriter.

I showed it to my sister who said that maybe she’s just being friendly, but I worry it’s become more than that.  Lida lives in a 3rd floor studio apartment with a big window that faces the front of the building, so she can see who’s coming & going. 

It seems that more & more, everytime I come home, she likes to race down to the lobby to see if I wore a warm enough jacket, got healthy things to eat from the market, let me know if the mail has come yet, what the weather that night will be, and on occasion to ask if I like Sally (another ID woman who recently moved here) or if I’ve found a girlfriend yet.

When I tell her I haven’t been looking, she says “Good!  I won’t look for a boyfriend!”  

And lastly, on a tastier note do you know I’m almost 62 years old and have never, not a single time tried ‘Cup o’ Noodles”?  I’ve seen commercials for them all my life, but never considered myself a noodles person. 

Then the other day at the store, I saw this new Asian Style, Sweet Chili flavor and curiosity got the better of me and I picked up a couple.  Good Lord, this little styrofoam cup has 1100 grams of sodium—I shouldn’t be eating this!

But man oh man, it was only $1.38 and as tasty as it was filling.  I’m hooked.