Just a Southern Girl?

Not only are we remodeling, but our two neighbors are building, too. The neighbors two doors down are two gay guys who are moving in. Yay! I love gay guys! But the neighbor directly by us is a slick corporate kind of guy. Damn. I don't like those so much. Not nearly as fun as gay guys. So I have had a few run-ins with him. Here is today's:

I went to get my bike out of the garage and could not swing open the garage door because the port-o-potty for HIS construction crew was directly behind our garage. Now, I was raised in the South (Dallas, Texas if you are curious), so sometimes I find that my Southern politeness is a bit over the top compared to people in California, so maybe it is just me. But I think that if I was the one that was going to put a 500 lb. rectangular box of excrement on my neighbor's property over a holiday weekend that I would, I don't know, ASK FIRST. Or maybe do something REALLY crazy and not even put the box of crap there in the first place. I guess I'm just old-fashioned that way.

I actually managed to ask him very politely to please have it moved. I don't know how I did it. Maybe it was the Southern girl in me, even though I left Texas five years ago. Wait, no, that's not it. It was because Henry was standing right next to me when I called the guy, so I had to suck it up and be a good example. Darn kids, always making us have to behave ourselves!