Armo and dangerous
I will avoid any judgment and just present facts.This is my neighbor, Armo. He and his wife, Lucyk, live in a house identical to mine next door.
Self-inscribed in the cement on the walkway in front of and behind his house is the word: ARMO.
According to Wikipedia: Armo (U.S. & Australia) person of Armenian origin.
I have often wondered, based on this, if I should not call myself "Irish".
When he is outside, which is often, he will supervise the neighbors' parking. He will also scrutinize outsiders.
This, we believe, has resulted in a safer, more annoying neighborhood, depending on the scrutinee.
His English, after 18 years in the United States, is mostly non-existent. I do not believe he speaks Spanish.
His wife unfailingly tucks ACI's shirt into her (ACI's) pants. "Too cold," she says.
There are a lot of things they do that I believe are intrusive of privacy. If they spoke English, I would say, "Cut that shit out". I believe Armo and Lucyk display a similar non-acceptance of our customs. One day I will learn Armenian so that I can understand what they are saying about me in front of me.
Last year around this time Lucyk asked for my Halloween pumpkin. From this she made jellied pumpkin candy and gave us a jar of it. It was horrible.
Armo often gives us apples and pomegranates. They are excellent.
Lucyk once advised me to move ACI's room from the back of the house to the middle of the house. "Maybe someone break in steal your baby."
When ACI walks by their house, Armo calls out, "Give me kiss." Her face smells dizzyingly of his cologne affterward.
Two days ago he gave her a left sneaker and a right sneaker in individual bags.
From a pallet in their garage, Lucyk once produced an industrial strength box of maxi-pads to give to TAARG, which the latter tried in vain to refuse. There appeared to be several dozen more boxes in there.
A while ago I tried to joke with him. "No park car there," he said as I was parking. "Other people hit."
"Other people hit, I shoot in head," I replied.
"I have 150 guns," he said.
I am often seen leaving the house with a camera. The other day I got in my car and was checking messages on my phone when Armo tapped on the window.
"You take picture of me with car?" he asked. "I send to Armenia."
My theories on why and how Armo has a Hummer 3 are many, but I asked him to park his car in a certain way so I could get a picture of him in front of it. I took several pictures of him, and of the car. I am a professional.
Then he went into his house and re-emerged with a Mauser pistol. I took several pictures, including the one above.
My feelings about Armo and Lucyk are complicated. When I leave, I will miss them. At the same time, it will be partially because of them.
Previously: Knowing my neighbors; Horrors; Jaws begins; Costco 1975; Tearful goddamn reunion; My criminal neighbor; Mano penolo
See also: Armenian baby names, t-shirt version
Labels: glendale
posted
by Marty Barrett at Monday, October 16, 2006
2 Comments:
"Maybe someone break in steal your baby."
I laughed for 5 years. She sounds like my grandmother.
Marty,
You always have the most interesting neighbors!
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home