Do NOT Mess with the Skinny Leg Jeans!

Plotnik came close to his first fist fight today since the eighth grade. It started when Ducknik spotted the newest bunch of Air BnB renters in the downstairs apartment next door, all from New York, pounding on the gate with a frying pan trying to get it open.

"You won't believe this," she said, not knowing she was waving a red flag in front of this bull.

This has been happening for months. The neighbors travel a lot, and rent out every room in their house when they're gone. Plot and Duck share an entrance with those who rent the downstairs apartment, through a gate with which there has never been any problem, at least when there was one long-term renter living there.

Now, Air BnB rents to any fool who gives them the money and these people come from all over the world. The gate is in constant use, and, apparently, there are parts of the world, such as New York, where if you just push hard enough on a solidly built piece of lumber and iron, you will be successful in opening it, even if you're pushing it the wrong way. It's that positive thinking shit.

You'd think if somebody tried pushing and it didn't seem to work, they would next try pulling. But no. Not the people Air BnB and Plotnik's neighbors rent to.

They had already jammed the gate so hard yesterday that they had to call the neighbors' handy man to get them out. Today that ol' frying pan tore the corner post away from Plotnik's house. He could see the bent nails when he went over to help them get out of the apartment. He couldn't help -- they really screwed it up this time.

He and Duck are friends with their neighbors, and have been since the house was purchased two years ago. They are nice people. But they're never home. They're teaching in Maine right now and before too long they will be in Berlin for a year. What happens then?

Is it really going to come down to lawyers and threats and bad blood? What a shame.

Oh, the fight -- well, there were four women and one man arrayed on one side, and Plotnik on the other. As Plot was trying to get the gate open, Doofus said something like "Just do it. We want to get the hell out of here." It sounded like "Hurry, dipshit! We're wasting valuable time!"

Plot is not going to repeat the next verbal exchanges. He will tell you he strode manfully towards Doofus and, amongst other phrases used, Doofus said "Oh, yeah?" and Plotnik said "Yeah!"

The poor yokel had no way to know that Plotnik had just been to the Levi's store downtown and purchased not 1, not 2, but 3 new pairs of Skinny Leg Jeans. EVERYBODY KNOWS you do NOT mess with someone wearing Skinny Leg Jeans.

The guy finally looked down, recognized the threat posed by Plotnik's comely ankles, and got the message. Plot told him to call the people he rented from to figure out what to do next, but exactly two minutes later the guy was walking through Plottie's yard, with his suitcase, looking for some other house where there might be people home, who he probably figured might have the secret key to unlock The New York Doofus Frying Pan On Gate technique.

So where are we? The gate is screwed. Plot and Duck can fix it in a few hours but don't want to until they absolutely have to. When the wind comes up this afternoon it may tear the gate completely off its hinges. The neighbors are supposed to send somebody.

But, hey. It's gorgeous in Maine.