Talk to “Old Bob” when he first got to work, and a folding chair could be tossed in your direction. “Old Bob” talked, when his hangover-fogged mind was good and ready. “Old Bob” was a hard core construction worker and one of my trainers.
Another Bob lives across the street, in my daughter’s new neighborhood. Whether that’s the crabby neighbor’s name, is not important. He fits the “Bob” profile. For clarity, he will be referred to, as “New Bob.”
New Bob has a nice RV, kept cleaned and polished. New Bob Jr. has a shiny Mustang–he loves the sound of its powerful engine. New Bob introduced himself by complaining about barking dogs.
Every neighborhood has Bobs. Bobs make your business their business. They’re neighborhood crabapples–the get off my lawn people.
Too many Bobs lead to bored pets and pet owners. Bobs expect to be indulged after late night partying. No courtesies are ever reciprocated.
New residents find out who their Bobs are in due course–faster, if they have children and pets. Potential residents would be well-advised to ask the question, “Who are the neighborhood Bobs?” “Are they manageable?”
Old Bobs, New Bobs, Bob “wannabees”–This Thanksgiving, I’m grateful to have all my Bobs in a row.