With Bitch You Get Eggroll

I'm currently nursing a nice, cold glass of Alka-Seltzer and listening to Sarah Vaughn. If you've been keeping up with my blog then you've heard me complain about my geriatric next door neighbor, Ms. Fossil. Ever since the whole tree trimming nightmare, we've pretty much kept our distance. She called once to get the name of the company that I ended up hiring to trim my trees (only after I'd weeding out 6 other companies, via estimates). She raved about what a good job they did and wanted to get their name for future reference. I opted not to disclose (i.e. I couldn't "remember") that information for 2 reasons: [1] Knowing how sneaky she is, I suspected her wanting to call them and see how much I paid and undermine any future trimming they may do for me, etc. And [2] Why should I do all the work of finding the cheapest tree trimming service, only to hand it over to her? Fuck her. Let her work for it.

So, the phone rings around 2 on Sunday afternoon. I check to see who it was. It was her. I opted not to answer the phone, not having the energy to deal with whatever it was this time. Three and a half hours pass and she calls again. I decide to answer the phone and get it over with. As it turns out, she's calling to see if I like eggrolls. Apparently she bought a gross of them at some local food warehouse and "couldn't eat them all." I told her that 'yes, I do like eggrolls' and she said she would bring me some. I thought "Hmm. That's sweet of her." Over the years, we have traded food back and forth. I enjoyed it more back when she had a life and kept to herself. Lately, though she doesn't appear to have much to do and therefore likes to occupy her time by finding things to complain about.

So, she comes over and I invite her inside (which I normally never do, because she always acts like she's so busy that she can't stay). She comes in and hands me a gallon-size Ziploc freezer bag of about 10 eggrolls, uncharacteristically generous of her. I'm a little suspicious, but I put it out of my mind. She also brought over a serving of "Swiss steak," which I had never heard of before, but it sounded good when she offered it on the phone earlier. I put the steak in the fridge and the eggrolls in the freezer and we talk for a while.

Later that evening, I decide I am in an eggroll kinda mood, so I turn the oven on and put 3 eggrolls out on a cookie sheet. Now, I've had frozen eggrolls before, so I know how to cook them in the oven and what they are supposed to look/taste like. Well, these freezer-burned shitbatons fell apart immediately, never got crispy AND tasted like complete and utter crap. My conclusion: These were leftover, freezer burned trashcan fodder that she couldn't bear to throw away, so she gave them to me instead. I suspect the 3 hours time difference between the first time she called and the second time she called and I answered, gave the eggrolls enough time for the ice crystals to melt away. Being used to her usual tightwad portions, I knew something was up when I saw the bag of 10. Needless to say, I opted not to eat the "Swiss steak" either, in fear that it too was on its' way to Rancidland. In the immortal words of Bugs Bunny: "Of course you know, this means war."