Of Garbagemen, Portals, and Becoming a Balcony Karen

GUEST WRITER: Suzanne Hancock

I am becoming like the old Nonnas sitting on the stoop of their buildings or leaning over their balconies. They were the original neighborhood watch. Nothing escaped their notice. No one was immune to their judgment.

I often wake up and stay in bed, scrolling on my phone, looking at the trees outside my window, and playing hands of solitaire online. I heard the garbage truck stop under my window. I peered out and saw the driver pull something from the top of the truck that hadn’t made it into the bowels of the machine. He threw the large piece of scrap metal on the ground and drove off.

I was incensed as sanitation workers were supposed to dispose of garbage, not litter. I contemplated calling the company, but I really didn’t want the driver to get into trouble, and I figured someone would consider it a hazard to navigation and remove it.

Obviously, I am someone with too much time on my hands and not enough of my own problems to solve. How did this happen?! I, like the old Italian grandmothers, once had a busy life managing a job, a large house, kids, pets, and community involvement.

Women of a certain age are perpetually busy. They make sure the kids don’t forget their lunch or homework. They are the ones at work who know everyone’s birthday and organize the party in the break room, get the cake, and extort money from co-workers to pay for it.

It seems like I should be able to fill my day with the challenges the world likes to offer me. I recently got an email from a medical office requesting that I open a portal in order to see my bill. Why didn’t they just tell me how much I owed them? I would send a check or call and give them credit card information.

I am only opening a portal if Jamie from “Outlander” is on the other side. Why do I want one more password in my life? No, I would rather hang over my balcony rail and continue my surveillance of the neighborhood and Karen the heck out of some unsuspecting soul.