¿Quién es más macho?

Remember, this whole sad tale begins with an umbrella. Kevin, my neighbor on the third floor left his wet umbrella open to dry outside his front door. Unit owners are not supposed to do that. After a spot check, the fire department once fined our condo board because an owner left his bicycle in front of his door. Safety regulations state that the hallway has to be clear so that nothing interferes with firefighters in case of emergency.

 

Brian, the condo board president with definite prick tendencies, lives two doors down from Kevin. When he saw the umbrella, he locked it away in the storage closet. Brian had every right to do this. However, it was an unnecessarily provocative move. I would have just closed the umbrella, leaned it against the door, and left a note for Kevin explaining about the fire department regulation. But whatever. It happened. It's done.

Kevin spun out. Really went bananas. He called the management company and demanded to see the security films to find out who stole his umbrella.

He was told it wasn't stolen, it was just locked away and would be returned to him. He was furious. He began emailing the management company over and over and over again. More than 20x in an hour. He sent a photo of his umbrella hanging from his door knocker (therefore not obstructing the hallway) with a sign that read, "HAPPY ST. UMBRELLA DAY!"

Then Kevin came looking for me. He knows I'm on the board and that I live on the top floor, and he wanted to discuss all this with me. Only he doesn't know my last name so he couldn't tell from the mailboxes which unit is mine. I heard some banging down the hall but dismissed it as someone hanging a picture or putting up bookshelves. He never actually got to my door. Got bored knocking on doors and finding no one home, I guess. It wasn't until the next day I learned the banging was him looking for me.

 

Then he insisted we allow him to speak at the next board meeting (scheduled for this coming week). He has 5-10 minutes worth of issues he'd like to raise and wants to encourage other unit owners to chime in. His complaints included the umbrella -- aka the theft of his property -- and a neighbor who leaves garbage in her parking space. (No, she doesn't. He may believe she does, but she doesn't. I walk past there often.) He also wants to know why a unit owner was allowed to turn her unit into "a bed and breakfast." I think he meant Airbnb. He's imagining this. Our building has no units listed on any vacation rental sites.

When the management company told him protocol doesn't allow for this (he's lived in the building three years but only ever attended one meeting), he said he was contacting his lawyer. We're violating his civil rights. BTW, his lawyer is Illinois Attorney General Kwame Raoul. He brought the removal of his umbrella to the attention of Springfield.

Our management company tried to keep up with the deluge of emails. Patty began every response with, "Hi, Kevin." He accused her of being disrespectful. He was to be referred to as "Mr. Gleason." If she couldn't afford him that dignity, he would be forced to insist she use his military title, bestowed upon him by confidential executive order in 2010. He didn't like using it, because women find it intimidating, but if she continued disrespecting him, he would have no choice.

 

Then he began posting photos of his war injuries on the management company's YELP! page, along with conspiracy accusations. The scars up and down his leg broke my heart. They are gruesome. They also do not belong on a YELP! page. Anyway, he accused the management company of demeaning veterans. He threatened to show up at their offices and "break some arms" in defense of his dignity and property.

Then there was a confrontation in the parking lot. He chest bumped Brian and promised to "fuck him up" if not allowed to talk to at next week's board meeting. The police were called.

Finally we contacted our law firm. On Friday, Kevin was sent a cease-and-desist order. He is not to speak to, phone or email me, Brian or the management firm. Any communication has to be in writing, delivered by the United States Postal Service, and the law firm must be copied.

 

The police were here, accompanied by the VA, and they took Kevin to a hospital. They cannot make him stay. He may be back by the time you read this.

 

I have told Brian and the management company that I am afraid of Kevin and will not attend this week's board meeting. I suggested it be rescheduled.

 

All this started with an umbrella. I know from my friend Henry, who has a TBI, that this really is not about the umbrella. I'm no shrink, but it seems obvious that Kevin is suffering from PTSD and off his meds, so if he hadn't been set off by the umbrella, something else would have lit this fuse. 

But it was the umbrella. Brian had to be the alpha. 

As it is, I'm afraid to be in my own home. I'm nervous about encountering Kevin when I'm taking out the trash, or doing laundry, or waiting out front for an Uber. I'm scared when I hear footsteps in the hall.