The Dastardly Monsieur Pigeot, Sr.
August 17, 2006
My neighbors and I and have a contentious relationship.
This began when I moved my bathtub into the hallway. The toilet soon followed.
The first few days after my modifications passed with minimal comment. There were a few startled looks but everyone seemed pretty cool with the new setup. Then, during my Thursday afternoon soak, that bastard Pigeot Sr. comes strolling down the hallway and lays the stink eye on me. Now I don’t mind a gander; you put your bathtub in a hallway you got to expect the odd pervert’s going roll up and take a look, but the situation was starting to get a little awkward. “It’s not a peep show chief” I informed “either get to steppn’ or get to scrubbing”. He got to steppn’ and I figured, his curiosity assuaged, that would be the end of it. I was mistaken.
Next day I found the following Note on my door:
Dear Tenant of Apt 5
I cannot begin to imagine how you could feel it was appropriate to install your bathroom facilities in the common hallway of this apartment building. I have made property management, and the City building inspector, aware of your actions and suggest you remedy the situation before they are forced to take sanction against you.
Francois Pigeot, Apt 6
Now I am a pretty sanguine motherfucker in most cases, but certain provocations cannot be overlooked. It’s not my style. That smug prick Pigeot thought he could press my buttons, but he was fumbling dangerously close to the doomsday switch. I thought about setting up a 36 hour bathtub vigil to rile him, but that would only play into that sick, Gallic, voyeur’s fantasies. Instead I set aside my more reactionary tendencies and decided I would attempt resolution through civil discourse.
Dear Bastard Pigeot, Sr
While I am unsure of the customs of your homeland, here in Canada we have a little something called “Minding your own damn business”. In the past I have ignored your interference into my affairs for the sake of your son Pigeot jr, with whom I share a special bond, but your constant assaults against my self determination, and bizarre fixation with my bathing practices, have worn my patience thin. In the interest of good relations, and your physical well being, I suggest you focus on your clearly under serviced wife and not my hygienic practices.Ps. Don’t worry about the Inspectors and such, I got that shit all locked up.
A.J. Valliant., Apt Go fuck yourself
Unsurprisingly Pigeot ignored my attempts to mediate the conflict, choosing instead to escalate things with a cowardly personal attack. I found this note tucked in the basket where I keep my bath salts and fancy display soaps.
Dear Mr. Valliant
I am dismayed and disgusted by your childish, abusive behavior towards me. I have filed a police report regarding your threat of violence and continued displays of public indecency. Inconceivably it appears that you have somehow obtained a permit from city council, and building management, to effect your renovations. Though I am sure my entreaties fall on deaf ears I implore to show some measure of restraint and modesty in the presence of your fellow residents. Your “First inaugural Chilly cookoff/gang scrub down 2006” violated any precept of good taste, in addition to many public health standards. I can only hope the numerous party flyers for “Swankotage 4:The Amouratorium” were made in jest, as my apartment was listed as “The pointdexter chill lounge”, an arrangement I most assuredly have not agreed to .Ps. As I have mentioned several times I am not from France, nor have I ever been to France. Your continual xenophobic taunts in that vein are both contemptible and grossly inaccurate.
Francois Pigeot, Apt 6
The ignorance and mendacity of his words filled me with a frothy rage. I had half a mind to take his wife off the guestlist; to think he would sink so low as to drag “Swankotage” into his petty grievances. He knew damn well have the funds raised went to “JJ Vallon Memorial Send a kid to camp” foundation. My efforts to deal with situation courteously had served only to embolden him. It became obvious I needed to take more extreme measures to check his puritanical despotism.
Le Monsieur Pigeot
I can see you are an unreasonable man, immune to compromise, and inexorably set upon conflict. You want a blood feud les enfant, well you just got your self a grade, type o-,hemoglobetrotting slamdangle of one. What quarter I have to give, has been given, ready your self at all times. I expect you will attack in cowardly ways; blow guns, hair dyer electrocution, some sort of mind powers, you will be ill served by all of them. I must remain circumspect about my methods, for legal and tactical reasons, but you can be sure that they will prove irresistible. The battle has been joined, you simpering chestwig, try to last an hour at least before issuing surrendering.
“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” George Bernard Shaw, 1903
A.J. Valliant., Apt Watch you back
I nailed that one up on his door with a rusty screw driver this morning. When, and if, he replies I will inform you folks.