Our favorite neighbor stopped by today to give me some roach bait that she had promised to give me. I didn’t really want it, because we have fantastic bait that we use, but she was forcing her kindness on me and I had to accept.

She rang the bell while I was on a work video call and I excused myself and went to get the door. There was a cardboard tray in her hand with the bait labeled in juice bottle caps.

As she was explaining what to do, my mind started wondering back to the conference call I was missing, and I snapped back into the conversation when my neighbor started screaming and running towards the stairwell.

I yelled, “Ms. Levy, what’s wrong?”

She was cowering halfway down the hallway, pointing into our apartment. Her reaction was so dramatic I thought she had seen a murderer or a ghost in our apartment.

Having this realization, I turned around to make sure I was safe and I saw my orange cat sitting there staring out the door at this screaming woman.

I laughed because it was all so ridiculous. She was upset that I laughed and she yelled, “I’m afraid of cats. I’ve got to go.”

As she scrambled up the stairs, I shut the door and hid the bait in a high place so the cats couldn’t get at it. I returned to my laptop, I saw that I hadn’t muted my microphone and everyone on the meeting most likely heard the whole ordeal.

They were kind enough to not say anything.

After a few hours I found a note under my door from my neighbor explaining the bait and the post script said: “I don’t like cats. I don’t know why, I just never have.”

The culprit:


146 The Park Slope Harasser


I dog sat this weekend for someone whom I will refer to as X. X has a ground floor apartment with a fenced in backyard and a grill, and I was excited to enjoy this luxury.

Andy started up the grill on Saturday, and no complaints. Then Andy started up the grill again yesterday, and within 5 minutes the door bell was ringing.

X has an updated apartment, so I could see a video of who was ringing the bell outside. It was a plump woman in her 50’s with a short haircut, who looked mad as hell. I picked up the phone, and the conversation went like this:

Me: Hello

Harasser: Hi this is Y, is this X? I am stopping by because of the grill.

Me: No. X isn’t here right now.

Harasser: Well who are you? And why are you in X’s apartment?

Me: I’m the dog sitter.

At this point I stupidly let her into the building.

Harasser: (now face to face) Where is X?

Me: None of your business.

Harasser: Why are you using the grill? I told X not to use the grill. The smoke gets in my apartment and I am going to get cancer from it.

Me: X told me I could use the grill without the smoker.

Harasser: You can’t use the grill at any time. You need to stop grilling right now.

Me: X told me I could use it, and I am going to use it.

Harasser: (Walking away) You tell X that what X is considering a backyard is an alleyway. Not a backyard. NO GRILLING IN THE ALLEY. (slams front door).

Not a backyard? An alley? Obviously she needed a lesson on what an alley actually is.