Monday, August 8, 2011

Harrassing children and tampering with mail in a neighborhood near you.

So.  Remember the story about how we continually and spectacularly fail to move into a new house?

This is Part II.  Kind of.  Remember, when we were days away from "moving," and I filled out change of address paperwork?  Well, I also enrolled the Princess in kindergarten, in "our" new school district.  We were able to reverse the post office change of address and stop our mail from forwarding, but the school is another story.

This is the school we want her at, the school she will attend if we have to drive her in from Siberia every day.  I don't care.  We love this school.

But in order to enroll her at this school, we needed an appropriate address.  And since we were imminently "moving" into this new house in the school's service area, we used "our" new address.

We didn't move.  She starts school in a week.  We still don't know her teacher's name, her classroom, what supplies she needs, nothing.

Meanwhile, our would-be landlady has been avoiding me or something, not returning my calls or text messages for the past week.  But I need to know if we have mail from the school!  She mentioned at one point that she would leave any mail she received for us under her doormat.  So Friday afternoon we swung by and checked under the mat.  Nothing.

Now, would-be landlady is living out of town (remember, she moved to L.A. for work?) but her stuff is still in her house here, I don't know, OK, it makes no sense in general.  It's craziness.  This irrationality is the reason we have not yet moved.  But anyway the gist of it is that she's not here, a neighbor is collecting her mail, and she comes home on the weekends.

Again:  She's not returning my calls.  She's MIA, incommunicado.  I need my mail.  So...what choice do I have, really?  I have no choice, that's what.  So I suck it up and I go knock on the neighbor's door!

I start with the next-door neighbor, a woman she once mentioned being friends with.  A very lovely young woman answers, says no, she's not picking up would-be landlady's mail, maybe it's the woman across the street.  Uh huh.  OK.

So at this point I'm just wandering the neighborhood, knocking on strangers' doors looking for a piece of mail which may or may not exist.  tHe O.G. waits in the car and pretends not to know me.

I jog across the street and knock on that door, and a little girl answers.  She's maybe 10.  "Hi, is your mom or dad home?"


Wait.  No??  Are you home alone?  And are you telling a stranger you're home alone?  This is not wise, little girl.  OK.  Whatever.  Not my problem, I need my mail.  Focus.  Eyes on the prize.  "Um...I'm Alyssa, I was supposed to be moving in across the street?"

"OH!  Hi!  I'm Jenny.  When are you moving in?" (This little girl is so friendly and adorable.  Somebody might be tempted to just pick her up and carry her away.  Forever.  In his windowless van.  Because she's home alone and answering the door.)

"Um...I don't know if we are.  Anyway is your mom picking up [would-be landlady's] mail?"


"OK.  I know this is weird, but do you...happen to know if there's been anything addressed to me in that mail?"

"I don't think so.  Hang on!"  She runs back into the house, then returns with a key.  "Here's her mail key, you can check!"

Um.  OK.  Jenny, honey, I need to have a talk with your mother about leaving you home alone and not teaching you about stranger danger.  But not today.  Today I really just need my mail.

I go check the mailbox, and no, there's nothing for me.  Great.  I return the key to Jenny, say a silent prayer that she'll lock the door and no child predators will wander by on this particular day, and head home.

Two days later, I get a text from would-be landlady:

"my neighbor told me u went to her house and asked for my mail key to get ur mail. her daughter was made very uncomfortable because she didn't have my notification or approval. in the future please do not do that. i'll text you if you have mail."

Really?!  Really, would-be landlady?  You'll text me?  You, who live 6 hours away, will text me when I have mail?  You, who have consistently avoided my calls and text messages for the past week?  Really?

Really?!  Really, Jenny?  I asked for the mail key?  I made you uncomfortable?  Is that what you told your mommy when you got in trouble for throwing your life and your neighbor's mail into the hands of a stranger?  Oh, Jenny.  I thought we were friends, I really did.

It's a good thing would-be landlady is a flake and we will not be moving into her house, because a police sketch of my face is no doubt being posted all over the neighborhood as we speak.


  1. If you do end up moving in there, you're going to have to explain to Jenny's mom. And then call CPS on her.

  2. Really??? Really. This is unbelievable. Oh I believe you. It's just unbelievable.


Leave a comment! Be nice. Sarcasm is welcome. Trolling is not.