Open Letter

An Open Letter to my Hobgoblin Neighbor

It’s becoming quite clear that I have numerous interesting neighbors.

Dear Mr. and/or Mrs. Hobgoblin Neighbor,

Kudos, to you, o’ grotesque one. Your complete and utter disregard for the rest of us living in the condo is Bond Villain-esque! If Sean Bean had the cojones to act as you did, surely he would have survived being crushed by the Cradle at the end of GoldenEye. Except not. I mean, he is Sean Bean, after all.

Why, neighbor? Why did you let your dog poop in the elevator and then not clean it up? Why, previous to yesterday’s poop offense, did you let your dog pee in the elevator and then, once again, not clean it up? What is it about feces and urine that you find so troubling that you are unable to deal with it, despite the fact that you relieve yourself of both on a daily basis. But wait, that is unfair of me. You might very well have been previously involved in some sort of Human Caterpillar situation, which has left you with severe PTSD and a fear of human waste.

Or, and this is just a guess, you’re just an unfathomably ignorant and discourteous hobgoblin.

Yes, let’s go with hobgoblin this time around.

Despite how disgusting the piss was when we came across it in our mercifully tiled elevator a month ago, we, and by we I mean my husband, cleaned it up, informed the management company, and left a polite letter in the mail room informing you of your error. After all, maybe you just didn’t notice that your dog took a little wee. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt once, and only once, before I bring out the goblin whacking stick. Unfortunately for you, the poop left in the elevator yesterday evening means that I am no longer feeling charitable and/or understanding. Quite the opposite in fact.

In discussing this with the folks over on reddit, someone suggested that perhaps they planned on returning to clean it up. That could have very well been true, but alas, 40 minutes later and that pile of shit was still there, much like you are still living in this condo despite the fact that every single person here now despises you and wants you to become locked in your bathroom with your tiny dog where you will inevitably be eaten by it as the animalistic nature of your tiny, yappy canine comes through in full force. Sure, we don’t know who you are, but there are only so many dogs in this condo, so it shouldn’t be too tough to figure out.

For instance, using the elevator suggests that you live on the second or third floor. You own a small dog, probably to go with your tiny penis/or vagina. That’s already eliminated 1/3rd of those living here! Next comes the door-to-door canvassing, followed by the interrogation which may or may not involve a car battery attached to your nipples. If you weren’t pooping in inappropriate places with your dog before, you sure will be after I’m done with you.

Admittedly, I didn’t expect the first note to be met with great success. In fact, I half expected it to enrage the residents of our condo to the point where they started collecting pitchforks and torches. I do tend to have that sort of impact on people. One lovely Redditor came across it somehow and took a picture of it, which I have included below. Perhaps I was a little harsh in it, suggesting you pee in your sink if you really need to. Or maybe you were just so put off that someone would call you on your bullshit that you decided to up the ante by letting your dog poop in our common space and not clean it up. If that is the case I must tell you, I will be forced to call the police if next week we find a rotting corpse slouched over in the corner of the elevator.

I may have been a... little... passive-aggressive
I may have been a… little… passive-aggressive

You know the worst part about you letter your dog relieve itself in the elevator and then not cleaning up after it? It brings into question the health, safety, and care of your pet. I am deeply concerned that your entire condo is composed of dried out dog shit that has been cunningly sculpted into chairs, tables, couches, and even appliances.

Do you let your dog crap wherever and just leave it, hoping that some magical crap fairy will appear in the night and whisk the defecation away into Poopland, where the entire economy is based around the cultivating of bowel movements? Does that make you the King or Queen of Fecal Matter? Furthermore, would you like me to make you a crown? I can definitely put together some sort of poop-related crown if that’s the sort of thing that’ll get you cleaning up after your dog.

For the sake of clarity, let me emphasize that I am not upset at your dog. Sure, I know some dogs can be egged on to pee on command. That always strikes me as quite brilliant. After all, I can’t magically shit every time someone commands me to. I can, however, clean up after my pets as a good owner ought to do.

Amazing that you, a grown man or woman, lacks the basic training afforded to most of the First World. I have drafted a proposal to our condo board that we purchase you a shock collar in an effort to remove you of these neglectful habits. Of course, we’re still going to have to register you with the city. There will be a hefty fee, and you’re going to need to wear a collar. Don’t worry, the collar is only if you can’t find your way home, and the fee will go towards cleaning up after you and/or your dog. And just in case you were wondering, yes, I know human vaccinations are not currently mandatory, but I think for the sake of everyone living in the building it would be best if we made sure you were up-to-date on all of that.

Now, I suppose you think I’m being passive-aggressive by suggesting that you are on equal terms as a trained animal (possibly untrained. It is difficult to tell at this point.) My answer to that is: absolutely. 100% passive-aggressive. I would be in-your-face aggressive, but have no idea who you are, which is why I am forced to address this letter as I have. If you’d like to come forward to discuss this face to face, I live in Unit 3314. Anytime, buddy, anyplace. Just give me a heads up so I can lay down some newspaper for you before you arrive.


Kathleen Sawisky, Esq.

Integrity commissioner

1 thought on “An Open Letter to my Hobgoblin Neighbor”

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