The Beer Bottle Bust


Our Property Manager of the B Street house called me up this week. She was extremely angry with me over the phone. Apparently during the recent rain storm we had, the roof of the hair salon turned into a lake. I had noticed it actually. I was looking out my windows down at their roof and saw it was completely submerged. Must have been at least a foot of water. I laughed when I saw it. A day or two after that it was gone, I figured the rain gutters finally did the trick. Well what actually happened was the rain gutters on their building were clogged with pine needles- and dozens of beer bottles. The blockage was so severe that the entire roof flooded and then sprung a leak into the hair salon and it caused alot of damage. Bummer. The property manager accused us gentlemen of putting the beer bottles up there and was threatening to make us pay for the damage. I couldn’t have that. None of us could afford to pay restitution anyway. We’re all broke most of the time.

I told Miss Propety Manager that we have a problem with bums in the neighborhood and that they must have been throwing their trash up there and we didn’t know anything about it. I seriously doubt she bought my story, but what could she do? She couldn’t prove otherwise. I’m not sure who will eat the cost of the repairs on this one but it damn well won’t be us.

All summer long I sat up on the roof outside my windows and drank beer. When I was finished with each bottle, I rolled it down the shingles where it would bounce off our rain gutter and hop down onto the roof of the hair salon. It was amusing. I was too lazy to put them in the garbage can so I just disposed of them with the help of my good friend Mr. Gravity. As winter started to set in, it got too cold to be outside on the roof drinking at night. Since that was months ago I forgot about all the beer bottles that had piled up out there. Oops. As long as they don’t try to fingerprint the bottles I think I’m gonna get away with this one. I hate that hair salon anyway. It’s a pain in the ass having it in our front yard. And their customers keep thinking our one lane driveway is a parking lot. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to go down there and tell them to move their shit heap car out of the way so one of us could get out- or in. Sheesh. Those dingbats just don’t get it.


~ by factorypeasant on November 30, 2004.

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