Of course I’m not there to see her off, as I am not allowed on the so-called “Private Drive” that is now Weimer Avenue–which is a dirt cul-de-sac on which Mike’s house resides. Huh–wasn’t ever anything special when I lived there, but seein’ as Chief Of The Fire Hall or whatever his title is–bought the two houses next to him, well then, I guess it became a Private Drive. One was an abandoned meth house and the other a house Mz. Izola Roberts lived in (in complete and total filth and squalor with ELEVEN cats to boot) until she drank herself to death–got put in the Sweden Valley Manor a good number of times but always managed to bust her way out–no gallon jugs of wine at the Manor–yeah–I got an earful from her when I left Mike about MY terrible character (Bitch please–you drink from sunup till sundown, your kids hate you, you’ve been kicked out of every bar in the COUNTY, and you need a freakin’ gas mask to even come into your place because of the cat piss!!!). Mikey Fire Chiefy put his parents up in that house–the other he only wanted the garage for a workshop.
Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiin any case, MISTER Police Officer that Michael summoned lickety-split just happened to notice when we drove by him, and therefore knew that MR. FIRE CHIEF was lying when he screamed harassment at the top of his register.
In any case this “Private Drive” business came up one day not too long ago when I was fixing to give my baby girl a “Mommy Phone.” So that she could call me any time she liked and we could chat. WELL. APPARENTLY, This was stated to me by ANOTHER Chief (Oh, yeah–Roulette’s get’em com’em outta their ears–ya just have ta be white n borned there) One Officer Bryan Phelps (Who told me he is ALSO chief of something-or other) was on Mr. Mikey Ingall’s speed dial and just happened to be right down the road and handy for tellin’ me to Shut Up several times while he was gettin’ the story from Mikey.
He then ran my license and info as well as Melvins, for no good reason, and made us drive to another area that apparently was NOT a Private Drive [although who knows because apparently these things don’t have to be marked on signs, just agreed upon by buddies]. He then gave the phone to Mike, who clearly stated that he would NOT give it, or allow use of it, by my daughter.
Good. Another wasted effort.
I was (barely) invited to the kindergarten orientation, in which we got to meet the teachers, hear lots of rules, learn about milk money and snacks, and ride the bus, which was the best part, because I got to hold Lil the whole time.
Then Mike yelled that he would email me whatever I needed to know (which in his mind is always nothing), and it was over. So fast. God.
The court was supposed to decide which school district Lil went to–I wanted her to be either home-schooled (to which Mike was vehemently opposed), or go to the obvious school district–Coudersport, which is where Mike AND Grandma work, AND where Mommy lives–in fact, just about 1 mile from the elementary school.
But no–Mike thought it would be best if she went to a school that was another 10 miles away from me–Port Allegany–reigning champions of terrible scores for the past 20 years in academics. His grounds? “Her friends will be there.”