Randall the Rash

From now on, that is how I will refer to him. Because his name really is Randall, and he just won't go away.

Having been assured that Randall would be gone this morning, I wait until 2:00 to go to the townhouse. I drive up and am thrilled that the 1982 rusted out Dodge Caravan is no longer in the driveway. I am even more ecstatic when I go in the house, and then enter the garage to find everything has been moved.

Just to make sure that the back room behind the garage hasn't been turned into a guest room for The Rash, I unlock the door and open it. GUESS WHO IS THERE!!! That's right!! It's Randall!!! And he's NOT happy that I have entered his room. Not happy at all.

So, at this point, I am EXTREMELY pissed off. I can't put it any nicer than that. Actually, that is putting it nice, because there is a lot more I could say.

So I tell Randall that I thought he was going to be gone by now.

He says, "I'm doing what I'm supposed to do," and he looks at me like he wants to kill me.

Seriously.

So I say, "No, you are not supposed to even be here."

That's when he slams the door in my face.

So, after unloading my truck, I walk around the parking lot a little, and find his piece of crap van parked on the other street in the same community, but in a way that some bushes block it so it can't be seen from our townhouse. As I walk back, here comes Randall, with a psycho smirk on his face, walking to his van.

As soon as the van pulls out, I go back to "his" room, and find that in the span of ten minutes, he has changed the lock on that door! Okay, that's fine. I don't need to get to their stuff. We did agree to let them store some things in that room. But I'm so curious as to what he has going on in there, so I walk behind the townhouse to look in the sliding glass doors. Conveniently, he has boxes piled from floor to ceiling, so no one can see in. That's when I realize that the ONLY way into that room is through our garage. Even if he can unlock the sliding doors, there is no way to get past the boxes. Meaning that he can't get in there unless he comes through our house or garage door. And I have already been told that he might need to come get things out of there occasionally. And I think we know what "occasionally" probably means to Randall.

On top of all of that, yesterday I put new batteries in the garage door opener. It worked fine all day. Today.......nothing. It will not open the door.

I dare you to call me paranoid, because we all know that Randall did something to disable the opener. It wouldn't surprise me if he has his own remote and has reprogrammed it to work the door, so he can get in anytime he wants, thereby giving him access to his stuff.

I am now back at the old house. But I have to go now. I'm meeting the locksmith at the townhouse in 30 minutes. All locks are being changed TODAY.

And yes, that includes the one that would have let The Rash into his bedroom.