As I was walking Dixie this morning, I stopped to speak with another Frank down the street - Frank-The-Good, President of the Board of Directors of the Association. He called me over and said he'd heard about my little sitchayshun with Frank-The-Bad.
My, my, my. Word travels quickly.
Rosie: "How'd you hear about it, Frank."
Frank: "Well, the Homeowners Association Meeting was last night and apparently Frank had contacted the association to complain about you and they said they couldn't do anything about it."
Rosie: "He called to COMPLAIN about ME??????"
Frank: "Yeah, everybody knows he's a jerk. And if he shows up for my (annual neighborhood) pig pickin' next weekend I'll toss his ass out so fast he won't know what hit him."
At about that time, guess who comes tooling down the street?
None other than F-T-F.
I gave him a neighborly wave, but he didn't wave back.
I'm glad Frank-The-Good was standing there with me, because, like I've said, I'm a bit paranoid that F-T-F might try and do something really stoopid.
Oh, and thanks to mrsvjw and notmuchofacook for your comments and suppport.
And don't worry. I never play the revenge card.
Give him enough rope.
He'll hang himself.
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