Anger Management 101

Dear Neighbor with the Car Horn Alarm that goes off at 5 in the morning,

Even though you live 1/2 mile from my house.
Even though I have never seen your car.
Even though I have never seen your face.

I know you.

And I hate you.

I hate your face.
I hate your shoes.
I hate your mayonnaise.
I hate the school you obviously did not graduate from.

Mostly, I hate the fact that you are completely anonymous to me and that I can't confront you.

I could drag my butt out of bed, throw on some shorts and flip flops, get on my bike and track down your car via the obnoxiously loud alarm. And then I could vent my rage on your precious 2005 Ford Taurus or your irreplaceable 2003 Buick LaCrosse. But if I'm going to jail I don't want it to be for minor vandalism.

I want them to throw me in the clink for Major Verbal Battery and Assault on your cretinous ass. And your tiny reptilian pea brain.

Deep breath.

First of all, who counts on a car alarm to deter thieves? That might have worked in 1986. But today's thieves are much more sophisticated. They can disarm a security system and hot-wire a car faster than you can say Flock of Seagulls. Who, by the way, are no longer recording music and now working as barristas at the local Starbucks.

Secondly, we might share the same zip code but I don't know what kind of alternate universe you live in. When a car alarm goes off, particularly one as grating as yours (a car horn that beeps every 1 &3/4 seconds) no one, and I mean no one, runs to the phone to alert the Po-Po.

"Officer, I believe there's a vehicle being stolen from across the street. Please send the SWAT team."

To the contrary, I suspect your incessant alarm, which has now gone off four times within the last week (all at the worst possible hours of the day) sends a different kind of signal to the community. I think it tells your more immediate neighbors, who are in direct eyesight and earshot of your car...

"Pardon me for interrupting your sleep, can you please urinate on my door handle?"

It's now just before 6 in the morning. Your car horn stopped honking 20 minutes ago but there is still a phantom ringing in my ears. The initial wave of raw anger has begun to subside. Now that my heartbeat is back into the double digits it occurs to me that I owe you a small debt of gratitude.

You see, at the beginning of this year I promised the 11 regular readers of roundseventeen a monthly addition to the list of People We Need to Kill. That well was running frightfully dry. That is, until 5:02 AM this morning.

Signed,

Your neighbor with a full bladder