How to (almost) survive the whiner from hell
In one of my stupider moments, I agreed to be a block representative for our homeowner’s association. No one else would do it, and mostly all I’ve had to do is go to very boring meetings.
But a few days ago, a neighbor began circulating a petition for our block of homeowners to secede from the rest of the neighborhood. Turns out this man is not in fact a homeowner, has never been to a neighborhood meeting, never shown at work parties, never contributed money, and never bothered to get any of his facts straight.
Most of us had never even met him before,either. I spoke to him at length, could get nothing out of the whiny little man that made any sense, and concluded he couldn’t do much harm.
I was wrong.
As the day progressed, I became increasingly amazed at how much havoc one person could cause. He brilliantly found the people who were most ready to take offense, most likely to listen to his irrational arguments and half-truths, most eager to hear and even help him spread rumors of who was insulting whom, and which group had conspired against which other.
I pondered an appropriate response, and finally sent around a letter. I didn’t mention the man or his petition, only re-introduced myself. Said I was available. Mentioned some great things about both our block AND our neighborhood. All better now, right?
Wrong again.
The man came to my door. “Everyone” had told him to talk to me. “Everyone” demanded $500 to fix a vague something he could provide no further details about. But he had “letters,” he said. He invited me to come up to his house to listen to the 17 angry messages on his answering machine (I declined.) The “11 people” who first asked him to be their spokesman? Too afraid to tell anyone their names because of what might happen to them if they do.
Oh. Bloody. Hell.
After about the tenth round of “everyone is pissed off” I finally used his name very deliberately (own it YOURSELF, jerk-face, and no more of this “everyone” crap) and said X, *you* are pissing *me* off, and I think we’re done talking. He was taken aback, but quickly rallied and triumphantly declared that now he would add “The NEIGHBORHOOD says our block is pissing them off!!!!” to his list of grievances he would be reporting back to “everyone.”
And darned if he didn’t, the little cockroach, wreaking even more havoc.
The worst was the woman who called me in full attack mode. I was so dumb-founded by her unrelenting nastiness that I couldn’t even hang up on her. I had a relationship with this woman. She’s a little silly, sure, but she’s also all alone so I’ve taken the time to tour her silly little garden, coo over her silly little dog.
In the wake of all this drama, for the past several days I have worked almost non-stop at researching and compiling a handy and fact-filled “Neighborhood Q&A.” (AKA “Chill, yo.”)
I’ve rewritten nearly every word. I’ve shortened, sharpened, considered and reconsidered. I’ve read bits aloud to myself. I’ve moved large pieces back and forth, deleted them, rewritten them. It seems a little obsessive, but also seemed truly necessary. Writing it out has settled and refocused me. I feel more like the words are making me than I them. They have been my best friends. They’ve put me back together, held me up and re-energized me.
They are strong, true, simple, tough words now (also a tiny bit funny) and they are finally done. 13 pages, 40 copies. Attached to 40 copies of the neighborhood bylaws.
It goes in all their boxes tomorrow. And then? To hell with it. My neighbors are either going to knock it off or I am going to resign. We’re going to get THIS failure over with as fast as possible.
