This guy bought the home directly below me on our hill, separated from mine only by a retaining wall, since the whole hill is terraced to accommodate.
When he opened his garage, I saw therein an old Mustang car that had been abandoned by the previous home owner. I’d been wanting a project to take on, so I asked him if he wanted to sell it. He said he did, and we agreed on $500. This car is sitting on it’s rims, as all four tires have rotted completely flat and shredded. The engine is gone, dismantled, the engine block left sitting out in the rain. It will need a new engine. The sheet metal in front from the core support out is gone, radiator, grille, bumper and all. I didn’t look that closely because of junk in the way but the frame is likely bent as well, since it had plainly been wrecked.
The drivers door is caved in and there’s rough, poor body work on the sides. Couldn’t tell about the interior because all the stuff, looks like junk to me, piled inside the car. Completely restored with a new engine and paint job, this car would sell for about $18,000 on average, which is about what the restoration would cost. I thought $500 was a fair price, he agreed, we shook hands on it.
Among men, a handshake is giving your word. That’s how I was taught as I was growing up, that when you shake hands on an agreement, it’s a done deal and if you’re any kind of man you will honor your word.
When I tried to make arrangements with Brian to get the car out, he started telling me lies as to why the gate lock can’t be opened. Finally he told me that he’d changed his mind and gave me back the $500 check I’d given him, as he’d decided that he wanted to fix it himself. As far as I’m concerned he welshed on our deal.
Figuring that my new neighbor is a jerk, I decided to just ignore him, and did so pointedly so there would be no mistake about it. But Brian persisted in saying “Hi” to me when he saw me about, so I decided to make things clear, and told him that if he wanted to be friends he first had to make it right on our car deal, that we shook hands on it and that meant he gave his word. When he indicated that my position meant nothing, I told him that it did, that he welshed on me. That was all it took. “You called me a welsher”, he erupted, threatened to kill me by various means, at the top his lungs, ran at the retaining wall and leaped over it, leaving a deep knee dent in the soft earth. Being at least twice his age and not nearly his size, I ran for it and called the emergency number for the Sheriff.
Meanwhile he continued screaming, so I took a tape recorder outside and recorded a long period of screams and death threats. I have you on tape, Brian, and the Sheriff Deputies heard that tape. Neighbors 4 houses up also heard you screaming, from inside their homes. That’s how loud you were.
After the deputies got you to shut up, and left, you started screaming at me again, I called them again, they came out again, and again got you to shut up, and left. As soon as they left, you did it AGAIN, a third time. I called them a third time and that time they took you away and I didn’t see you again for two days. Now you’re quiet as a mouse.
It’s just my opinion based on past experiences in life, but I think you’re psychotic. I don’t know if you’re doing drugs, though you did sound very drunk the third time you were screaming at me. If you read this and think that you have some sort of civil court recourse against me for posting this, you don’t and any good lawyer will tell you so because it’s all true. What you did is a matter of police record. I know you tried to make counter-complaints against me, because the deputies told me so, but it was you they took away, wasn’t it?
You don’t get to terrorize old men who did nothing against you and you don’t get to renege on your word without there being consequences. You don’t get to shriek death threats for all the neighborhood to hear, and not expect that to come back to you. Everyone in our neighborhood knows what kind of person you are now, because YOU have told them. Good job, Brian. Nice welcome to our neighborhood you provided for yourself.
I elected not to press charges against you this time. BUT, if you ever make so much as one more move against me, I will see you sent to prison if I possibly can. I looked up your past record, and you’re skating on thin ice. Remember that.
I realize that more than one person is named Brian R. This particular one lives in the Kern River Valley as of this posting date, and this post refers to him only.