Lisa's POZ Blog

If you have ever heard the phrase ‘no good deed goes unpunished’, then you will recognize the irony of the truth behind the saying here.

Yesterday evening, my next door neighbor came by to ‘check’ on me, as she had not seen me out in several days. Bless her heart. We have formed a nice little budding friendship since the weather broke a few months ago. She and I, sit in the only two houses on this side of the street. On the other side of her house is a small open lot, and then an apartment complex., and I live at the end of the street.

As you all know, I am open about my HIV, and she has shared a funny story with me about “that old man”(as she refers to him) stumbled into her bedroom one night while she was renting a room to him, and layed down on her bed, saying “ wanna fuck?”. She nicely reached under the bed, and pulled up the crowbar she keeps under her bed, and replied that he better get his nasty ass out of her room, or he would be sorry. Needless to say, that he shortly wore out his welcome in her house, and as I type this, his things are in boxes sitting on her front porch, awaiting his release from jail.

Ms G. is a diminutive woman in her late 60’s, and she has only recently stopped working. I used to look out for her house when she was working, but never had had a real conversation with her, until a couple of months ago, when I realized she hadn’t been around for a few days, but realized that her kin had been to her house at odd hours. We actually struck up conversation when Sweetie was lost . Her daughter, and grandson were just pulling up in front of her house, and I approached her gson about the fact that it might be possible that Sweetie had taken refuge under her porch. Her daughter shared with me that Ms G was in the hospital, and would be home in a few days. She did make it home, and has ceased work, as her healing process was a little longer than she had anticipated.

Since then, we have had many conversations, and a couple of evenings spent on the porch in my rocking chairs. We have shared much about our families, kids, and lives, including my HIV status.
She came to the door yesterday to see if I was OK, as she hadn’t seen me in a few days, and was concerned.
I invited her in, and we talked for a bit. I have noticed that her daughter has been using her car a bit this weekend, and she went on to tell me that her car was broke down in the parking lot of a K-Mart store up the road. She was relaying the story of how this man (who has been wooing her of late) came to her house, and took her up to the shopping lot to see her car. She was pissed, that this guy drives her up to the parking lot, pulls up next to her car and parks, but made no attempt to get out of the car, or try to see what the problem was. He essentially took her for a visit.

I’m no master mechanic, but I do have enough automotive knowledge to be dangerous. I told her I had triple A, and would she like to go check out the car. So off we go.
We get to the K-Mart lot, get her hood up, and she tries to start the car. It turns over, but wont completely start. She tells me that she just had a fuel pump replaced, and it was still under warranty.
I call AAA, and they assure me that a truck would arrive within the hour. The truck arrived beyond that hour, but Ms G. and I had a nice little visit while we were waiting.

During our conversation, she elaborated on the story of “Mr. wanna fuck”, and how he had been a drinker, and had some drug dealings too. She had slept with him at some point, and she went on to tell me, that she went to her doctor and asked to be tested for HIV and STD’s, as she had heard that he had been “catting around”. I must say I was mighty impressed with her knowledge, and her constitution. Her test came back negative, and she was relieved.

Anyhoo, the tow driver hooks her car up, and follows us back to our respective homes. As we pulled u[ in fromt of my house, I pulled a bit further forward, to allow room for the tow truck, and her vehicle to be as nearly parked in front of her house as possible. She and I get out of the car, and watch Mr. Tow park his truck. As I walked around the rear of my car I saw the truck rolling forward, and figured he was trying to get her car into the best position possible. But for the grace of god/dess, I would have been crushed because I almost didn’t move from behind my car. The truck rolled right into the back of my NEW CAR !!!! My little tires went screech, and my rear end was smushed. Ms. G. and I both had thought the same thing during the trip back to our houses……he didn’t look to be the sharpest pencil in the box, and we had actually had a giggle about it. I wasn’t giggling anymore. The owner of the station will repair my car, but I just couldn’t believe that this happened. My NEW FUCKING CAR ! ! ! AAAaaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhhh !
I’m heading out to the station in a couple of minutes to let the owner have a gander at Mr. Unsharp Pencil’s handiwork,. I thought it would be beneficial to write about the experience, but truthfully, I’m not feeling any better.. Oh well at least I wasn’t killed by the truck.