The Nutjob Next Door: West Coast Style

Part III of The Nutjob Next Door series.  Part I here & Part II here.

You don’t have to go to Hollyweird to find nutters in California.   Mental illness  knows no geographical boundaries, nor does it confine itself to any particular socio-economic bracket.  Heck, it is so widespread that the NIMH reports one in four Americans aged 18 & older have some form of it, so chances are, if you aren’t a nutter yourself, then someone you know is.

Manifestations of being mental can be a little, or it can be a lot.   It all just depends on how adept folks are at hiding it.  Surprisingly, some of these nutters hold jobs that require a professional license.  Take, for example, one of the stars from this particular Nutjob installment.  Let’s call him Guillermo.

Guillermo moved in next door one, sunny, Southern California day without incident.  In fact, but for the noise of the moving truck bouncing over the speed bumps in the lot, I barely noticed the new neighbor’s presence.  A week went by and the most irritating thing about him was his proclivity to argue at all hours with, presumably, his wife on the phone while pacing the sidewalk directly in front of my unit.  The guy had absolutely no qualms about shouting at the top of his lungs into his cell phone, “You fucking whore cunt!” or some other such term of endearment, at midnight or later in front of the building for everyone to hear.

Another week went by and a younger male (presumably his son) moved in.  Let’s call him Anthony.  He looked like he probably just graduated from high school and was looking for employment.   These are my speculations because I don’t generally initiate conversation with neighbors who aren’t bashful about screaming obscenities in public places during a private argument.  Or, for that matter, whose mental derangement oozes out of them like radio frequency crazy waves in overdrive.   If I thought Crazy Mary Critchen was bugfuck insane, then my next door neighbor was doubly blessed.

Before long, it became apparent that Guillermo wasn’t just a foul mouthed asshole, he was also psychotic.  His fighting was no longer strictly confined to a cell phone with his wife.  He was now arguing with the son and being exceptionally loud about it.

Their arguments took place inside their apartment, which I found strange since Guillermo had no problem sharing with the neighborhood his arguments  with his wife while outside on his phone.  But then again, when you’re physically assaulting someone, I would imagine that any eye witnesses to the deed would be very inconvenient.  It was not at all unusual to hear objects and/or what sounded to me like a body being thumped and/or slammed against the wall.  Living right next door to these people, it was very difficult not to notice the noise.

As if this behavior wasn’t enough to conclude that Guillermo was in desperate need of some thorazine & a strait-jacket, even when he wasn’t fighting with either his wife or his son, his mental illness manifested itself indirectly even when he wasn’t bouncing shit or his son against the wall at 3 a.m.

I recall one Sunday I was using the pool on the property.  It was a typical December day, around noon.  Very unseasonably dry & sunny and very warm.  I happened to be just finishing up my routine in the fitness center, and was just about to get into the pool when I noticed Guillermo sitting at a table under an umbrella reading a newspaper on the far side of the deck.  We were the only two there because most people in So Cal do not swim in December.   Fifty degrees is far too cold for that activity, but I’m from the east coast, so 50° F is pretty freakin’ sweet for December.  (Ok, I was wearing a wetsuit, but I digress.)

I no sooner got into the pool when Guillermo abruptly stood up, screeching his metal lawn chair across the cement in the process, and literally, stomped towards the gate and slammed it shut behind him.  His behavior was suggestive that I somehow disturbed his newspaper reading time.

Whatever, dude.  I don’t take things on a personal level unnecessarily. Besides, maybe he just had to get to the head ASAP to take a wicked shit.

Guillermo did a repeat performance of his behavior at the pool during another occasion in front of the apartment building.  Since we were neighbors, my patio was right next to his.  He happened to be sitting on the front step having a smoke and reading his newspaper, and, I had just gone out onto my patio to enjoy some rays.  I was there less than 5 minutes when he abruptly stood up and walked off in a huff to his apartment and slammed the door behind him.

I didn’t know what I did to the guy for him to be acting like a drama queen, but again, I don’t take this kind of churlish behavior -no matter how bizarre and/or inexplicable- on a personal level.  Besides, he was the loud-mouthed fucktard keeping everyone awake at night fighting with the fam.  If anyone should have stomped off and slammed a door, then it should have been me.

This is how it went for approximately 4 months – Guillermo’s arguments with his wife & son became louder & more frequent, as did the noise from inside the apartment, and, each time he saw me, he acted as if I had done something to personally offend him.  Then one day, I happened to find on the sidewalk in front of my unit a torn open envelope with its contents strewn alongside it.

My intention was to pick it up and then notify the person to whom it was addressed.   But when I saw the apartment number, I quickly decided against it because it belonged to the nutjob next door.  Considering his psychopathic behavior, I think karma will forgive me for not delivering his mail that he probably deliberately chucked on the ground instead of disposing of properly.

The contents of the envelope consisted of a small card from a traveling nurse agency exhorting Guillermo to check out their services.   Let’s pause for a second to explain what such an agency is for those unaware.

If you don’t know, a traveling nurse agency is used by registered nurses who want to work temporary assignments outside of their home states where they obtained their license.  It’s a pretty sweet gig if you’re an R.N. because these agencies will bend over backwards & kiss your ass, literally paying for everything  just for utilizing their services.

This is indicative of the ongoing R.N. shortage in the U.S., as well as proof positive that placing an R.N. even temporarily, must be fairly lucrative if the agency is willing to pay for living expenses. (Just as an aside – Where are the H1B visas for this group?  Corporate America made sure to pay their Congressional clowns to decimate the entire I.T. industry with cheap, imported serfs thereby outsourcing yet another industry and otherwise ensuring depressed wages across the board. What makes the nursing industry so special from anyone else whose job has been outsourced to the Third World so employers can pay pennies per day?)

Now let’s consider the implications of a psychopathic registered nurse, because that was apparently Guillermo’s occupation.  I verified his license on the State Nursing website, and, sho’ nuff, the next door neighbor, was in fact, employed as an R.N.  Turns out, his home state was New Jersey, which explained a lot about his behavior.

Can you imagine being a patient on Guillermo’s unit under his care?  The above referenced mental health stats being what they are -1 in 4 adults- the chances of you having to rely on an R.N. like Guillermo have a lot better likelihood of becoming reality than you think.  Click here for a much more likely scenario that involves everyone who lives to old age.

Since he worked as an R.N. and was around sick/injured people all day long, no wonder the guy hated me on sight.  I probably reminded him of the job he evidently despised because at the time all this was taking place, I was stuck at home on crutches with a busted leg.

The fact that I was on crutches also explains why I did not complain about the neighbor’s excessive noise.   I was very much incapacitated and would not have been able to defend myself if my incredibly warm & caring R.N. neighbor decided to administer a beating upon me.  And given his behavior, it did not seem all that farfetched to me that such an event had a very real possibility of occurring.

The whole time while I was suffering under my neighbor’s mental illness, other neighbors in the immediate area who were also suffering under Guillermo’s mental illness were apparently calling the leasing office to complain.  I am unsure as to how many calls they received or for how long before the office finally contacted me to confirm the noise.   That particular call was actually quite comical as the leasing office is well aware that I am not one to put up with excessive noise.  I could practically see the profound confusion on the leasing agent’s face through the phone while she was talking.

She actually asked point-blank if Guillermo was so loud why I wasn’t complaining about it along with my other neighbors, and, I told her point-blank that I was on crutches and could not defend myself from a psychopath whose behavior behind closed doors suggested that he would have absolutely no problems chopping up my body and tossing it in the lake.

Guillermo the psychopathic R.N. eventually moved out shortly thereafter, and, is currently terrorizing caring for patients in L.A.  Or so reports the State Board of Nursing website.  So far, no disciplinary action has been taken, which means that he is, evidently, very skilled at hiding his psychosis from his employer.

If You Enjoyed Reading This Entry:

Then watch Rear Window.  It’s about a guy with a busted leg who witnesses a psychopathic neighbor killing his wife.

©2010 Peyton Farquhar™ and Prattle On, Boyo™. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Peyton Farquhar™ and Prattle On, Boyo™ with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Part III of The Nutjob Next Door series.  Part I here & Part II here.

You don’t have to go to Hollyweird to find nutters in California.   Mental illness  knows no geographical boundaries, nor does it confine itself to any particular socio-economic bracket.  Heck, it is so widespread that the NIMH reports one in four Americans aged 18 & older have some form of it, so chances are, if you aren’t a nutter yourself, then someone you know is.

Manifestations of being mental can be a little, or it can be a lot.   It all just depends on how adept folks are at hiding it.  Surprisingly, some of these nutters hold jobs that require a professional license.  Take, for example, one of the stars from this particular Nutjob installment.  Let’s call him Guillermo.

Guillermo moved in next door one, sunny, Southern California day without incident.  In fact, but for the noise of the moving truck bouncing over the speed bumps in the lot, I barely noticed the new neighbor’s presence.  A week went by and the most irritating thing about him was his proclivity to argue at all hours with, presumably, his wife on the phone while pacing the sidewalk directly in front of my unit.  The guy had absolutely no qualms about shouting at the top of his lungs into his cell phone, “You fucking whore cunt!” or some other such term of endearment, at midnight or later in front of the building for everyone to hear.

Another week went by and a younger male (presumably his son) moved in.  Let’s call him Anthony.  He looked like he probably just graduated from high school and was looking for employment.   These are my speculations because I don’t generally initiate conversation with neighbors who aren’t bashful about screaming obscenities in public places during a private argument.  Or, for that matter, whose mental derangement oozes out of them like radio frequency crazy waves in overdrive.   If I thought Crazy Mary Critchen was bugfuck insane, then my next door neighbor was doubly blessed.

Before long, it became apparent that Guillermo wasn’t just a foul mouthed asshole, he was also psychotic.  His fighting was no longer strictly confined to a cell phone with his wife.  He was now arguing with the son and being exceptionally loud about it.

Their arguments took place inside their apartment, which I found strange since Guillermo had no problem sharing his arguments with the neighborhood with his wife while outside on his phone.  It was not at all unusual to hear objects being thumped and/or slammed against the wall.  Living right next door to these people, it was very difficult not to notice the noise.

As if this behavior wasn’t enough to conclude that Guillermo was in desperate need of a some thorazine & a strait-jacket, even when he wasn’t fighting with either his wife or his son, his mental illness manifested itself indirectly even when he wasn’t bouncing shit or his son against the wall at 3 a.m.

I recall one Sunday I was using the pool on the property.  It was a typical December day, around noon.  Very unseasonably dry & sunny and very warm.  I happened to be just finishing up my routine in the fitness center, and was just about to get into the pool when I noticed Guillermo sitting at a table under an umbrella reading a newspaper on the far side of the deck.  We were the only two there because most people in So Cal do not swim in December.   Fifty degrees is far too cold for that activity, but I’m from the east coast, so 50° F is pretty freakin’ sweet for December.  (Ok, I was wearing a wetsuit, but I digress.)

I no sooner got into the pool when Guillermo abruptly stood up, screeching his metal lawn chair across the cement in the process, and literally, stomped towards the gate and slammed it shut.  His behavior was suggestive that I somehow disturbed his newspaper reading time.

Whatever, dude.  I don’t take things on a personal level unnecessarily. Besides, maybe he just had to get to the head ASAP to take a wicked shit.

Guillermo did a repeat performance of his behavior at the pool during another occasion in front of the apartment building.  Since we were neighbors, my patio was right next to his.  He happened to be sitting on the front step having a smoke and reading his newspaper, and, I had just gone out onto my patio to enjoy some rays.  I was there less than 5 minutes when he abruptly stood up and walked off in a huff to his apartment and slammed the door behind him.

I didn’t know what I did to the guy for him to be acting like a drama queen, but again, I don’t take this kind of churlish behavior -no matter how bizarre and/or inexplicable- on a personal level.  Besides, he was the loud-mouthed fucktard keeping everyone awake at night fighting with the fam.  If anyone should have stomped off and slammed a door, then it should have been me.

This is how it went for approximately 4 months – Guillermo’s arguments with his wife & son became louder & more frequent, as did the noise from inside the apartment, and, each time he saw me, he acted as if I had done something to personally offend him.  Then one day, I happened to find on the sidewalk in front of my unit a torn open envelope with its contents strewn alongside it.

My intention was to pick it up and then notify the person to whom it was addressed.   But when I saw the apartment number, I quickly decided against it because it belonged to the nutjob next door.  Considering his psychopathic behavior, I think karma will forgive me for not delivering his mail that he probably deliberately chucked on the ground instead of disposing of properly.

The contents of the envelope consisted of a small card from a traveling nurse agency exhorting Guillermo to check out their services for better placement.   Let’s pause for a second to explain what such an agency is for those unaware.

If you don’t know, a traveling nurse agency is used by registered nurses who want to work temporary assignments outside of their home states where they obtained their license.  It’s a pretty sweet gig if you’re an R.N. because these agencies will bend over backwards & kiss your ass, literally paying for everything you need to live all for just utilizing their services.  This is indicative of the ongoing R.N. shortage in the U.S.

Now let’s consider the implications of a psychopathic registered nurse, because that was apparently Guillermo’s occupation.  I verified his license on the State Nursing website, and, sho’ nuff, the next door neighbor, was in fact, employed as an R.N.  Turns out, his home state was New Jersey, which explained a lot about his behavior.

Can you imagine being a patient on Guillermo’s unit under his care?  The above referenced mental health stats being what they are -1 in 4 adults- the chances of you having to rely on an R.N. like Guillermo have a lot better likelihood of becoming reality than you think.  Click here for a much more likely scenario since not everyone will end up in the hospital with a mere broken leg during his lifetime.

Since he worked as an R.N. and was around sick/injured people all day long, no wonder the guy hated me on sight.  I probably reminded him of the job he evidently despised because at the time all this was taking place, I was stuck at home 24×7 on crutches with a busted leg convalescing at the fitness center & pool.

The fact that I was on crutches also explains why I did not complain about the neighbor’s excessive noise.   I was very much incapacitated and would not have been able to defend myself if my incredibly warm & caring R.N. neighbor decided to administer a beating upon me.  And given his behavior, it did not seem all that farfetched to me that such an event had a very real possibility of happening.

The whole time while I was suffering under my neighbor’s mental illness, other neighbors in the immediate area who were also suffering under Guillermo’s mental illness were apparently calling the leasing office to complain.  I am unsure as to how many calls they received or for how long before the office finally contacted me to confirm the noise.   That particular call was actually quite comical as the leasing office is well aware that I am not one to put up with excessive noise.  I could practically see the profound confusion on the leasing agent’s face through the phone while she was talking.

She actually asked point-blank if Guillermo was so loud why I wasn’t complaining about it along with my other neighbors, and, I told her point-blank that I was on crutches and could not defend myself from a psychopath who looked like he would have absolutely no problems chopping up my body and tossing it in the lake.

Guillermo the psychopathic R.N. eventually moved out shortly thereafter, and, is currently terrorizing caring for patients in L.A.  Or so reports the State Board of Nursing website.  So far, no disciplinary action has been taken, which means that he is, evidently, very skilled at hiding his psychosis from his employer.

©2010 Peyton Farquhar™ and Prattle On, Boyo™. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Peyton Farquhar™ and Prattle On, Boyo™ with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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One Response to The Nutjob Next Door: West Coast Style

  1. THREE says:

    Wow the sequels just keep getting better (seriously).

    Fact in my country (a South-East Asian developing nation): 1 in 40 doctors (yes, DOCTORS) are diagnosed with mental illness every month, mostly recorded down as stress-related mood disorder… oh but that’s just the sugarcoated tip of the iceberg.

    I guess it’s global.

    The thought of placing one’s life in unstable hands (/minds)…

    Lesson I learnt from this post: when attempting to act on society’s behalf (/become a hero), know your limitations first 🙂 (poor busted leg)

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