There goes the neighborhood

There is now a "Joshua" and a "Gretchen" next door. Gretchen is his "partner" Oh my gawd, the hipsters have landed. I thought they were the ones who bought it, they were the last people who looked at it before the contract sign went up .  I had been rooting for the renter who lives at the end of the street who wanted it for the privacy of its fenced backyard. I would have liked her but I would have hated for her to pay $70 thousand dollars more for her house than I paid for mine. Around these parts they won't be known as "hipsters" , they'll be known as "morons".

And yes, they are hipsters, he has the required goatee and tats and although  I haven't met her yet, she did hook up with a guy with the required goatee and tats. Pot meet kettle.  I am no longer the "white girl",  I am now  officially morphed into the "old white lady". I stopped being the "white girl with the dog"  a while ago when the other white girl with a dog moved in several months ago. Times change. Gawd. There are all these white people in my neighborhood! Any more come in and they'll want to set up a Home Owners Association!

I went over after work and knocked on the door. Nothing. I took a look in the car and it looked like someone was living in it. This did not bode well to me. I had scoped out their basement - Hey! They left the light on! and it looked bleak, all they have down there is a washing machine and a pile of dirty clothes and  a cat box. I was a little worried. I have drug dealer PTSD and I was not feeling good about the car condo or the state of the basement. I went back later and this time Joshua came to the door.  Now I know it looks like crap because the partner is out of town and the guy isn't putting anything away like he told her he would. You know he promised to make great progress while she was gone, he'll make great progress the night before she gets back.

I'm going to go back with voters registration and directions to our voting place - things I did not have today, and I should have. I was woefully unprepared. I didn't even have cookies. Bad welcome wagon lady. I need to come prepared with  helpful information and at the very least my phone numbers and a run down of their neighbors : My next door neighbors: good, their next door neighbor : the drug dealers' crazy sister .  I don't know if I'm going to share that with them, I don't see them needing a tutorial on her, she's pretty self explanatory: Hi. I'm crazy and have a hair trigger temper. Welcome to the neighborhood! What are you looking at?!

What should I take over there when I try again? When I moved in the neighbors brought over literature from burgler alarm companies. I thought I would bring over cupcakes. Times change.