I thought the box lady had been quiet.
But on returning from a pleasurable evening with my friend and CNPS loser Emma Kennedy (we saw Hank Azaria in real life and Matthew Perry, not as impressive, though it didn't take us half an hour to work out why we knew him, like it did with Hank), I found a hand-delivered card in my mail box.
It said To our new neighbour on it. Ah, how sweet, I thought, in my mildly inebriated state. After the whole piano fiasco the locals are trying to make me feel welcome. Then I read the card and realised who it was from. It said,
Dear new neighbour (she hasnt bothered to find out my name in our previous conversations, thats how obsessed with the boxes she is. The boxes are all she sees, all she hears, all she wants. Its clear from the outset that she isnt interested in me, or in welcoming me to the area. She just wants me for my boxes.)
Welcome to X Street! (I have disguised the identity of my address, so dont look up the road in the A-Z or expect superheroes to be my neighbours.)
I hope you will enjoy it here as well as in your new home. (No you don't. Stop flannelling, get to the point. Its boxes that youre interested in. So box on Box-o.)
As I have already told you we are moving to Kent... (actually you havent told me that. Youve told me youre moving and that you want my boxes and have totally failed to listen every time Ive told you that theyre not my boxes and that you have to ring the removal man to get them and that when, and only when, he rings me to say its OK, will I let you have them.)
.and would be grateful if you would give me a ring on 020 8xxx xxx3
. (I cant tell you how tempted I am to give you the number, but Ive left the final digit to give you a shot at guessing it.)
.when you wish me to come round and collect those boxes. Lily. 89 X St (Top Bell)
Is she really this stupid? I dont wish for her to come round and get them. I will allow her to come round and get them if I hear she has stumped up the cash that the owner of the boxes wants, but she seems determined to try and ignore all the conditions of box transferral that have been clearly spelt out to her on two separate occasions. She obviously understands English -her card is grammatically correct, her spelling is excellent, her composition slightly pedestrian so why cant she understand it when I tell her she has to ring the removal man if she wants the boxes? Why is she sending cards to me, pretending to welcome me to the area? How long will this Hell continue? I am trapped in the middle here. The removal man doesnt care. Ive already paid him for the boxes (though he still owns them as apparently that money was just rent) and he either ends up with his boxes back or 50 or 60 quid. What do I get for this weekly psychological torture and pestering.
Clearly Lily resents me (theres a 9 in her telephone number too. And a 0). Clearly she still thinks I am deliberately keeping the boxes from her out of spite, or because I want a house full of empty boxes. I can see this whole thing boiling over into a bitter feud, possibly like that one on the news last week with the neighbours who argued over a fence and one of them ended up shot dead. Are a few dozen boxes worth a mans life?
I am thinking of arranging the boxes in a stack in the middle of X Street tomorrow and ringing on Lilys door bell (I know where she lives and which bell to ring) and the setting the cardboard pyramid alight.
And atop the heap shall be an effigy of her, with her fingers in her ears and a sign (made of a torn up box) saying, I am Lily, the box obsessed box-lover, I like boxes more than life itself. I will declare the 18th June a new Guy Fawkes Day. No, let us call it a new Boxing Day. Lets make it a tradition to burn all the spare boxes we have, just to annoy this potentially murderous, free-loading box-coveter, who wont even pay the requisite amount for the boxes she desires so much.
And as she watches her precious boxes burn, possibly scampering around the periphery trying to rescue the less singed boxes I will say, My name is Richard.
But Lily wont hear.
I fear that this card will not be the end of this.
