May 28, 2004

Pod Person Looking for Love

My neighbor is quite a character. His name is Podreberac but he goes by "pod" (very fitting).

Pod is a Vietnam vet. He makes sure everyone knows that and still wears his army gear most of the time...chamo pants, the hat, & patches. He often asks me to sew patches onto various shirts for him. I usually comply. His hair is thinning & he has the most fluffy mustache I have ever seen. He walks around the neighborhood with a gait that is like a combination of resignation and determination. Pod is basically homeless...he lives on the front porch of my neighbor's house surrounded by stacks of boxes and blankets hung from the ceiling for privacy and/or warmth. The porch is enclosed, but not heated so the winters get pretty chilly for him. He's been there at least 5 years.

Pod is...well, let's say chemically dependant. He drinks his beers in the alley between our houses in the bushes because the people who let him crash on their porch will kick him out if they catch him drinking. He is unemployed and lives off food stamps and whatever other aid he gets from the government. He is quite the pill-popper, too. He always is willing to share his valium, xanax, morphine, flexoril and other goodies, of which I do not partake (well...the occasional valium is nice...).

I feel bad for Pod...he is lonely and lost. He proclaims his love for me on a regular basis. He really is a nice guy but I have no attraction to him whatsoever. He has no problem, however, with telling me how beautiful I am and that he loves me, constantly complimenting my hair and all. "You're so purty!" Sometimes it kind of makes me squirm, but it's become obvious over the years that he means no harm. He does the same with my next door neighbor, Paula, and it visibly makes her squirm which can be quite amusing.

Pod came over last night when we were grilling burgers on the patio. He brought a package of hot dogs and a six pack. When we came inside to eat our burgers and retire for the night, Pod remained on the patio, grilling his dogs on the white-hot burger dripped coals and drinking his Natural Light. I looked outside at one point to see him having a lively conversation with himself. Soon after, around dusk, the dogs and Pod were gone.

Life goes on in the neighborhood. Pod is on watch, and all is peaceful...except when he is over there blowing things up with his "homemade dynamite." Now THAT is another story entirely.

1 comment:

  1. It may have been a good thing or a bad thing that I didn't see this entry at the time because there WOULD have been consequences with respect to Pod's drinking at the time.