Batwoman returns

Way back in the early days of the Kyknoord Chronicles, I made mention of The Bat. Although this supremely annoying individual doesn’t quite qualify for the title of “bane of my existence”+, she does manage to incorporate all that is irritating about communal living in one liver-spot bespeckled package. She is about two thousand years old and her longevity can only be explained as final definitive proof of an afterlife: nobody wants her.

I’ve been able to avoid her quite successfully in recent months, but yesterday morning I wasn’t so fortunate. She accosted me as I was leaving for work and began yammering at me in her fingernails-on-glass voice to “leave her post-box alone”. I have no clue what she was on about, but I can only assume that somewhere up in the senile lump of cream cheese that masquerades as her brain, a lone neuron must have discovered the cooking sherry and had a bit of a blowout.

The really irksome part of this little episode is that she is almost completely deaf, so “Fuck you, Grandma!” just doesn’t have the impact it should.

+ That honour is reserved for any member of the legal fraternity that happens to be dealing with my divorce at the moment.


28 thoughts on “Batwoman returns

  1. Oooh Kyk van Evil plan – ok it’s MY plan but I will share it with you.
    1) Phone the cops and report her for disturbing the peace after midnight.
    2_ Laff quietly to self when they come a knocking.
    Then again we’re talking SA police force so that could take a while.


  2. It is surely a crime to rob that statement of its well-deserved impact – so i suggest a visual aid, like a dog turd in her beloved postbox, but only if you are completely commited to evil neighbour-ness!


  3. peas: Too true. Why is there always one in every block?

    katt: No, but I’m about to.

    luke: You’re not helping.

    bee: Shame on you, Bee. Don’t you think the police have enough on their plate as it is?

    anne: How about flash cards? Flash cards are fun – and you can illustrate them, too.

    jam: Good idea. I’m going to have to practise not wincing when she talks.

    katie: I’m actually quite easy-going as a neighbour. If someone in the block keeps me awake by playing R&B at all hours of the night, I generally retaliate with Beethoven, as opposed to Wagner (even though I could).

    other-duke: You just have to love the ambiguities in that.


  4. HA! Fascinating!

    Reminds me of old Mrs. Yardley, the woman who lived with 33 cats, who I had to deliver newspapers to as a kid.

    She was so mean — and I’m not proud of this now — I returned late at night and pelted her house with eggs.

    She did eventually die, however, if that’s any consolation to you now.

    And good luck dealing with the REAL bane of your existence.


  5. rev: I would, but since she’s going to live forever, she’ll only need one in about a billion years time, so I’m stuck.

    salman: I think it’s far more likely that you will invent a time machine and your ex’s lawyer will make you give it to her.

    granny wrangler: If I had that much imagination, they’d need to put me in a room with soft walls.

    withinwithout: It’s no consolation whatsoever. I think she’s one of the evil spririts possessing The Bat.

    terri: No, but thanks for the idea πŸ˜‰

    angel: Maybe there’s a franchise or something?


  6. now, if she had no post box, she couldn’t complain about people tampering with it.
    get my drift.
    I’m thinking american style drive by with a baseball bat to the sucker!


  7. shortypam: Seems a bit extreme. I’d need a jackhammer to get her postbox out of the wall.

    peas: Oh well, as long as it’s a good reason.

    chitty: You and Terri are in this together, aren’t you?

    bigric: Maybe if I encased it in concrete?


  8. Kyk – she’s going to be around for a billion years, there’s no reason good enough m’dear, surely not! πŸ˜‰

    I’m telling you she’s Mrs Goldberg. You sure you don’t live in my building? πŸ™‚
    And if so, what you doing Friday? I beleive you owe me a date.
    PS: Serious plans to come down to CT soon, will be emailing you. x


  9. “a lone neuron’ LOL!

    Ahh….she is just lonely and bitter… she is an object for your pity, not your scorn.
    Leave some cooking sherry out in the parking lot…make sure that it is laced with a huge dose of ‘bat’poison.


  10. Pingback: Wotchoo lookin’ at? « the other side of the mountain

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