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Chip moved to California with some buddies from college a couple of years ago. They all lived together in relative peace until about 13 months ago, Chip�s roommates turned... evil. Talking shit behind his back, taking advantage of his generosity, generally being complete assholes. Friends of Chip, (in a different circle of friends than the roommates) started calling them "The Jerkmates." They moved out six months ago, and while life in Chip�s apartment (soon to be MY apartment as well) has been restored to harmony, the Jerkmates, supported by Chip emotionally through college and after, and sometimes financially while they adjusted to life in California (Chip is the only one of their college group of friends with a decent job), quite literally never spoke to Chip again. (Other than one of them calling once to beg him to send him a defunct parking ticket that was sent to his old address. Whatevs, Jerkmate.) These are people he was roommates with in college, put up when they moved to LA, he owned every stick of furniture and dish, utensil, glass (all very nice stuff) that they used while they lived with him. When he asked an acquaintance how the Jerkmates were doing and where they'd moved (they wouldn't tell him where they moving when they moved out) the acquaintance said, without mincing words too much, that the Jerkmates didn't really want him to know. Which we all found kind of funny. He has no desire whatsoever to associate with them, though it would be nice to know if those shitheads ended up living Palms or Skid Row or some other SoCal destination that they deserve. But, you know, past in the past, and if his new circle of friends, apartment, and everything were on Best Week Ever they'd definitely give him an Upgrade. I mean, seriously.
Cut to: Sunday night. Chip and I were craving KFC like nobody's business. There's one a few blocks from his apartment so we decided to walk over for the holy deliciousness that is the Honey-BBQ popcorn chicken. We get to the door of KFC and pause. Standing just inside of it are the Jerkmates with their backs to us. I grabbed his arm and we kept walking. We passed one of their cars in the parking lot (you can tell it�s their�s because it has horns and a tail) (okay, not really), and Chip joked "gah, we should follow them and find out where they live." To which I replied, quite seriously, "Wanna take my car?" (They'd know his car in second.) We ran home, hopped in my Chevy, drove to near the KFC, parked and surveilled. It was so fucking Alias, it was awesome. I tailed them to their new place, parked around the corner, and Chip slipped out and watched them walk right up to the door of their new place--we now even know which apartment they're living in.
When we got home, we started joking around about what we could do to them now that we knew where they lived. The jokes eventually turned into him saying "you know, I kind of actually want to do something to them for what they did to me. They totally deserve it." Which they do. We're trying to think of ways we can get back at them. Ways that are not illegal or destructive, but annoying and wouldn't point a finger directly back to Chip. We've come up with any number of ideas including putting pieces of rotting meat under their balcony, letting the air out of one of their tires every few weeks so they think they have a slow leak, putting a fake eviction notice on their door, getting a hard-core porn with a graphic cover DVD and attaching a note that says "you dropped this!" and leaning it up against their door so all their neighbors see it when they walk by... We even talked about pulling something similar to a Not Don. Anyway. People are wicked clever. Leave any good ones in my guestbook.
And, if you live in the Los Angeles area and care to do one yourself, the Jerkmates can be found on Iowa just east of Armacost, second building in on the Southwestern side�yellow building, brown balconies�the ground floor balcony is their�s, they're in unit #1. Have fun! I already left a nice juicy wad of gum in their mailbox key hole.
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