Annoying Hippy Guy and I have had a contentious relationship since I moved in. He would say it’s because I’m anti-social, superior and snide. (Hey, I’m from New York. We’re all like that.) But the real reason I don’t get along with Annoying Hippy Guy is because he’s annoying. And a hippy.
He’s young. Late 30s, I’d guess. Though it’s hard to tell from the unkempt rust colored beard that he wears. His long hair is always in a matted pony-tail and whatever clothing ensemble he adorns must be accompanied by his clear-colored, jelly sandals.
He is not annoying because of his lack of grooming and lack of fashion sense. He is annoying because he is the most obnoxious, pretentious and condescending shmendrick in my courtyard. What’s ironic is: people like him would describe themselves as “progressive” and “open-minded” when in fact they are the most judgmental folks in our society.
Yeah, of course he voted for Ralph Nader. Duh.
When we met for the very FIRST time back in May. He asked why I came to LA from New York. I told him I’m here to pursue hosting and start producing assorted creative entertainment projects.
He immediately goes off on a five minute rant about Corporate Greed, The Whoring of America Through The Media, and The Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy. And, oh yeah, something about War for Oil.
What does me hosting a reality game show have to do with George W. Bush? I dunno. But I do know that his gas-guzzling light blue 1987 LeBaron makes a lot more money for Haliburton than my new Honda does.
Oh. What does he do for a living? He writes a progressive/radical e-zine.
Saw that coming, too, did ya?
Since that first day, I avoid him. But sound travels in the courtyard (as you know) so I am periodically subjected to his tirades about the government and his love of the complete Steely Dan music library.
That’s the back story. Here’s what happened:
I avert my eyes, but I can feel that he wants to engage me. Avert. Avert. Avert… We pass each other. Nice.
From behind me a loud huff and then, “Is it that hard to recycle?”
I stop and sigh. Almost made it.
He sneers, “The recycle bins are right here to make it easy for people like you.”
I take two steps forward and I hope to God that this escalates. I had red meat for dinner and I’m hungry for more. His tofu-fed body is no match for this evening’s Double-Double with Cheese. So I bark, “People like ME?”
“Yeah,” he says in his obnoxious tone. “People who are too lazy to recycle. We only get one Earth, you know.”
I laughed at that. Seriously. I laughed hard and loud. Sure, it was a fake laugh, but I knew it would annoy him.
“Dude”, I say snidely, “It is ‘dude’, right? People like you are always ‘dude’ or ‘man’ or ‘bro’. Dude, I DO recycle. I just threw out a paper bag full of GARBAGE because I’m out of plastic trash bags. And did you really need to CHECK to see what I’m throwing away? Don’t you have better things to do? By the way, that Hefty bag you just chucked is NOT recyclable. And dude,” I now switch to my tripped-out hippy stoner voice, “We only get one earth, y’know.”
He didn’t say a word in rebuttal as I stood there and stared. He just sort of shook his head and made a “tsk tsk” noise with his teeth.
Five months of aggression had built up and I desperately wanted to keep sparring with him, but alas, he lumbered away without a word.
Probably better that way. I mean, beating up on a defenseless pacifist isn’t all that rewarding. Hell, it would be as much fun as conquering France.
Ok, I’m plotting ways to really piss this guy off. Any ideas? I'm thinking Styrofoam and aerosol.