My Bipolar Neighbor

There is a bipolar woman living in my new neighborhood. Our first day in the apartment, she drove up in front of the building honking her horn like crazy. It was at least 9 o' clock at night. She asked me if I needed anything from the Wal-Mart, Kmart, The Dollar Store. I said, no. Then, she asked me what my wife's favorite color was. I said, yellow.She told me my wife would love a yellow rose. She then took off around the corner, honkin' her horn like a mad woman. I thought for sure she was going to come back with a flower, wanting some money, but she didn't come back that night, thankfully. The next afternoon, we were still unpacking when she slowly staggered across the courtyard lawn toward us. She asked my wife if she ate corn on the cob, and how many were in our family. My wife laughed nervously and told her we get all our food at the supermarket. She then asked in a thick slurred southern accent, if we had any cookbooks. My wife said, she didn't even know, we were busy. That was the last time I saw her, with her thick glasses, short scraggly brown hair, batman t-shirt, and badly glued dentures. My wife told me the next day when she talked to the property manager she mentioned the bipolar nutcase, and the manager sighed and said she knew about her. The manager got calls the night before from angry tenants, who said the woman was knocking on their doors at 3 in the morning, trying to set up a yard sale. Also, the manager said the lady was not a resident of the property, just a guest of one. And that her family was going to put her on a bus, alone, back to georgia. Thank god! The local crazy is just a visitor, like an annoying guest star on a sitcom.