Friday, March 15, 2013

Hollywood - The Poop Debacle



I’ve always thought of Hollywood as being incredibly glamorous, full of famous people, rich, and lush.  I mean, America’s Funniest Videos had Hollywood on their post address, so it’s gotta be classy, right?

Well, I’m glad to say that I’ve finally made it.  I hit the Big Time.  I now live in Hollywood.  The bigass Hollywood sign can be seen from the street corner, search lights can be seen at night from the corner of Hollywood and Vine as well as various movie theaters, the Goodyear blimp circles above whenever an awards show is going down a couple miles from my house, and I stand on stars from the Walk of Fame while I wait for the bus every morning.  How glamorous of a neighborhood!  Right?


Wrong.  Perhaps you aren’t as misled as I was while growing up in Wisconsin, but it was a bit of a surprise to learn how much of a dumpster Hollywood actually is.  Just yesterday a homeless woman with a small goatee (for real) continually asked me for change at the bus stop.  I’d say no, and she’d be back three minutes later to try again.  There are awesome people like this chick all over the place around here. 

Feel like seeing some boisterous cross-dressers?  Well, just go to the corner of Highland and Santa Monica and check out the bus stop.  Don’t worry, they’re not actually waiting for the bus.  They’re waiting to suck your dick for a few bucks so they can go into the Walgreen’s and complain about everything they see in an extremely loud manner. 

Or maybe you feel like seeing a dude from the 80’s heyday of the Sunset Strip walking around in leather pants with long hair?  Those dudes are all over, too.  And they’re about five times more depressing and about ten times less cool than you may think they would be.

Perhaps you feel like seeing a sea of women walking around in extremely high heels with faces that look like masks and rock-solid fake tits?  We’ve got those, too.  Head out to Hollywood Blvd around 10 p.m. on any night ever, sit back, and watch the parade of people that base their entire self-worth on how big their lips are.

On the other side of the spectrum, you can also hang out in Mexico.  That’s my neighborhood.  There are a couple white people interspersed throughout, but it’s generally tons of Mexicans.  Which I don’t mind because they are generally a high-spirited and trustworthy bunch.  All they want to do is get their hours at work and jam on some mariachi music while they barbecue when they get home.  It can be so stereotypical that it seems like a joke, but apparently Mexicans really do hang out on the porch with the door wide open playing traditional music while getting piss-drunk and shouting “Ay-yi-yi-yi!” to each other while the chihuahua shits on the sidewalk.  This happens all over the place which leads to the strips of grass between the sidewalk and street to be continently covered in shit.  Yes, this is gross, but that’s just kind of the way it is around here and we all have to deal with it.

Which brings me to the story that I’ve wanted to tell this whole time.

About a month ago, my girlfriend and I came home from the 7-Eleven (where I won on every slot on a scratch-off ticket.  Every one.  Didn’t lose once) to find some poop, assuming dog poop but not ruling out people-poop, on our doorstep.  Now, it’s not actually the door directly in front of our apartment, but the door that leads into the apartment complex.  There is first this metal door that leads into a little courtyard/corridor area where there are two levels of apartments lined up along the side of the building.  The poop was on the step directly outside of the metal door that leads to the sidewalk.  We ask each other, “Wtf?” before she takes the candy or soda or whatever we bought (probably both) out of the plastic bag from 7-Eleven and scoops the poop out of the way.  Crisis averted.  We went inside and tried to figure out who would let their dog poop on the step?  What kind of dog poops on a step when there is grass three feet away?  Actually, there was some grass mixed in with the poop.  So who picks poop out of grass and sets it on a concrete step?  We were pretty confused.

Another day or two goes by and we realize that the poop was intentionally placed by our step.  And apparently the poop-gifter didn’t think setting it on the step got the job done because this time it was thrown over the metal fence and scattered along the sidewalk in front of the downstairs apartments.  We were amazed.  Angry, yes.  But also amazed.  Who the hell is doing this?  Why would someone toss poop everywhere?  What the fuck is going on here?  My immediate thought is that it has to be some asshole teenager.  I was a teenager at one point and although I never threw poop at anything, I did some asshole things.  That’s what teenagers do.  I don’t know why, but teenagers are just assholes.

This goes on for another ten days or so.  Every few days we would come home to find poop tossed all over the place.  Sometimes I’d come home, take the dog out, go back inside, then go back downstairs to check the mail and find poop tossed everywhere.  That sneaky bastard.  I began fantasizing about what I’d do when I caught the little shit.  I seriously thought about grabbing the poop with my bare hands and jamming it into his stupid fucking face.  Sure, there’d be poop on my hands, but that’s an easy wash.  It’s much more of a task to get it out of your mouth/nose/eyes/hair.  I could deal with the high level of disgustacity to see this person feel the wrath of their poor choices.

I come home from work one day and take my dog for a walk.  On the way back, I spot a person with a red shirt standing in front of our apartment complex.  I can’t see more than a sliver of his back since he’s obviously pressed up against the fence.  But he’s not going inside.  My heart starts racing.  Oh shit.  It’s him.  I start walking faster. 

I don’t say a word until I see him with a plastic bag in his hand as he pulls back and throws the shit over the fence while holding onto the bag.

“Hey!” I yelled.  “What the fuck are you doing?”

The man turns around.  It’s a middle-aged, probably around 40, white man with a red t-shirt and blue jeans.  He looks startled for a moment but regains his composure.  It’s been a little while so I can’t remember the exact words of our exchange, but I’ll do my best to recall it.

“You guys need to pick up after your dogs,” he replied.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve been finding dog shit out here for weeks and I know that there is somebody in this building with two, big white dogs that never picks up after they shit out here.  I’ve called your landlord three times and nothing’s being done about it.  So this is what I’m doing.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?  You’re punishing everybody in the entire complex because one person isn’t picking up after their dog?  Look.”  I held up a plastic bag with my dog’s shit inside.  “I pick up after my dog every time.  I get punished just as much as whoever you’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” he shrugs.  “You’re just gonna have to talk to your neighbor.”

“This is fucking ridiculous.  We have to walk around in shit because you are a fucking asshole?”  I’m screaming at this point.  Lost it.  Completely lost my cool.  My dog is most likely hiding behind me while I wave her poop around in the air like a madman.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have the presence of mind to open the bag and throw it at him.  Now that I think of it, that’s would have been the perfect thing to do.  I also should have brought up the fact that nobody in our neighborhood picks up after their dog.  There is dog shit all over the place but for some reason this one pile of shit in the grass in front of our apartment building, it’s not even in front of his building, has set him off for some reason.  I didn’t say any of this relevant stuff, though.  I just kept screaming, “You fucking asshole.  What the fuck is wrong with you?  You’re a grown man and you’re acting like a child.”

“I’m acting like a child?”  This seemed to piss him off, for some reason.  But he had already started a slow retreat back to his complex once I started tossing around the curse words.  I think I scared him a bit, which is funny because it’s not like I’m going to fight while I have my dog on a leash.  Also, it’s not like I’m going to fight because I’m a giant pussy.  But he didn’t know that.  He just knew I was sick of walking around in shit. 

“Yes, you’re acting like a child.”

“No, if I was acting like a child I would have smeared it all over the wall.”

First of all, what the fuck is that?  He thinks kids smear shit on walls?  If anything, that’s the move of a bitter old man that feels like he has to retaliate against the life that had been so cruel to him.  A kid is just going to throw some shit and get outta there before someone calls his parents.

“What?  What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Talk to your neighbor.  Just talk to your neighbor,” he said as he quickly retreats behind the metal gate of his apartment building.

“You fucking asshole!  You are a goddamn asshole you motherfucker!  Fuck you!  Fuck you!”  I was not being subtle.  Realizing that the confrontation was over, I walk inside and continue swearing.  I swore a lot that day.  I called the non-emergency police number and asked if anything could be done.  They told me that since I had physically seen him doing it, they could cite him for vandalism.  “And that’s just disgusting,” she added.  I agreed, however I decided not to get the police involved just yet.  I park my car in front of the building, and if this guy’s not against tossing shit around, he’s probably not against slashing tires, either.  I then sent an e-mail to my landlord to tell him to tell everyone else to pick up their dog’s shit.  I then wrote a note and attached it to the front gate addressed to our neighbors.


Eventually, a few days later, I calmed down.  I stopped swearing.  I was able to be normal again.  And then, after another week or so, I saw the motherfucker wearing the same goddamn red shirt.  I was standing outside with my dog when he walked past me on the sidewalk.  He nodded and said hello.  I did the same as I went through my mental catalogue to make sure it was actually him.  It was.

“Hey,” I said as he walked past me again.  “We’re not going to find anymore shit around are we?”

He shrugged, trying to look casual.  “Well, you guys have been doing a good job of keeping it clean.  As long as I don’t find any more out here, I won’t throw it.” 

The funniest part about this exchange, besides when I told him that I’d call the police if he did it again and he responded by saying he would call the police on me (for the dog shit that isn’t mine), is that there was a pile of dog shit right next to him when he said this.  About two feet away.  I can’t say for sure, but it seems like this guy has a lot of pride he wants to protect and he can’t admit that I scared the shit out of him when I went into devil-mode after catching him brown-handed.

As I said, it’s been about a month since the incident and we haven’t found a trace of poop tossed over the fence.  The landlord said he spoke with the guy and maybe the neighbors have been better at picking up after themselves, but it sure seems that being scolded at a loud volume by some sweaty asshole might have finally ended this disgusting adventure.

So not only is Hollywood full of gross people that are not, in fact, rich and famous, it also has some people that toss shit around.  Besides the assholes that live right below us and blast AC/DC at room-shaking volumes, I love our Mexican neighbors.  They’re the reason it’s so easy to find a great burrito within a few blocks.  My lone white neighbor, however, is a fucking asshole and I want him to slip in a pile of shit and then fall face-first into the same pile of shit so the shit goes in his mouth and into a cavity in his tooth so everything he eats for the next week tastes like that pile of shit so he always thinks about shit and his life becomes shitty.

1 comment:

  1. Okay, seriously... I live in Wisconsin, but after reading this

    "Wrong. Perhaps you aren’t as misled as I was while growing up in Wisconsin, but it was a bit of a surprise to learn how much of a dumpster Hollywood actually is"

    Hollywood is the home of Arnold (Terminator 1-3), mortal kombat and killer instinct n64, and golden eye 64 games...I'm sure there is nothing but rich people in golf carts... anything else is blasphemy.... :)

    ReplyDelete