This entry explores some of the same themes as Jesse's wonderful "Lawnmower Lines" entry but is different - and perhaps improved - because I am in it. And there is implied violence. One may be a consequence of the other, I'll leave that for you to judge - if you must.
I have written before about the recurring semi-guilty pleasure I derive from borrowing Ron's mower, driving it the intervening mile between our houses, and then mowing my lawn from the perch of the completely unnecessary spring-loaded seat atop the Cub Cadet while enjoying my crappy cigars. My neighbor, Don, has made it clear that the noise of the mower, followed by the twin smells of stogie smoke and cut grass, create a clear signal for him now, and he anticipates it's happening, once every two weeks or so. Often, it's the signal to mow his own lawn, so the levels will match.
Thursday night, I rushed home, got the mower, made it to my house, and began to mow my lawn. At the end of my now 10-hour days, I have less daylight than I used to, but in the July of a Florida Summer, this is still considerable. From the mower, I waved at several of my neighbors, and then saw one guy walking his small dog around the perimeter, near the row of crepe myrtles, a tree I only know the name of because of my wife. He waved to me, and then let his dog piss on a tree. Whatever. Then, the dog pissed the mailbox. Hmmm. Then, he was allowing his dog to shit right on my lawn, and he was not equipped - as so many in my neighborhood are - with any kind of scoop or bag. So I yelled, "HEY!" over the mower noise, gesturing toward the dog. He turned and looked, kind of shrugging, as if to say, "Hey, he's crapping. What do you want me to do?"
I have bad reactions to indifference. I gunned the mower at him and his dog.
The Cub Cadet does not go that fast. I get lapped by kids on bikes all the time. This guy apparently did not know that, and did the cartoony "move in all directions at once" thing, speed walked away, came back for his leashed dog, scooped him up, and kind of skip-ran down the sidewalk and around the corner of Joshua. I know, because I followed his ass on the mower down the sidewalk, waving my cigar and yelling, "You bringing back a scoop for that, or what?" I came back and finished my lawn.
Afterwards, I went for the hammer to whack some loose nails in the fence and couldn't find it. I came out of my car-hole with a small hatchet (handle, flat on one end, heavy - this will work) and ran into a another neighbor coming up the driveway. His initial reaction was just, "Whoa." Turns out, he wanted to talk shop about the mower, and bitch about the guy who lets his dog crap on other people's lawns. He thought it was funny that I "mowed him onto the sidewalk." My neighbor's phrasing is funnier than the whole event taken together, I thought.