The Luv Doc: Something Relatable

Dear Luv Doc,

I have a neighbor who’s always borrowing things from me. At first I was a little flattered because she’s hot and, as far as I can tell, single. At first she would borrow small things like some sugar or a can of tomato sauce, but after a while she upped the stakes and started borrowing bigger, more valuable things, some of which she has yet to return. Whenever I ask her, she always says I can come over and get ____ anytime, but she still needs it for a while if I don’t. As of now she still has my wet vac, my drill, two of my tarps, and probably some other stuff I am not even remembering. I like that we’re on good terms, but how do I get my stuff back without causing hard feelings?

– The Owed Dude Next Door

In my experience, it’s rare when you need a wet vac, but when you do need a wet vac, you usually need one lickety-split. That makes your situation with your hot neighbor untenable. Like, for instance, say you’re a serial killer and you’ve been up all night dismembering drifter corpses and your kitchen floor is a literal sea of crimson. You’re not going to be able to mop that mess up with a Swiffer WetJet® and a roll of Bounty Select-a-Size®. You’re going to have to ... as they say on ESPN ... go hard in the paint. You can’t be running next door at 4am in a chainsaw blood-splattered apron to ask your hot neighbor if she can fetch you back your wet vac. You’re just going to end up with another corpse to dismember. You’re also going to waste precious minutes trying to figure out where she keeps your wet vac when you could have been back in your kitchen Hoovering hemoglobin. Works starts at 8 and you can’t be late.

OK, in retrospect, the last half of the preceding paragraph wasn’t very relatable. I will freely concede that my brief dalliances with the Luv Doc readership have at times been unsettling, but I’m greatly relieved to report that no one has ever given me a serial killer vibe. I know it’s just a numbers game, however, and that if the writing in this column becomes too relatable, my readership might swell to a number that could potentially include serial killers. Such a number might also inspire Bounty® and Swiffer® to sue my pants off ... or more likely, pay me a hefty promotional fee. You know what would REALLY be unsettling? The thought of the Luv Doc berserking around Austin with pocketsful of corporate skrilla like Elon Musk on one of his “inspirational” ketamine binges.

So, to re-track and make this deal more relatable: Let’s say you went hard in the paint at the local all-you-can-eat seafood buffet and you wake up in the middle of the night and absolutely destroy your bathroom. We’re talking full-on, deep-dive, Trainspotting toilet scene damage that can only be undone with an industrial strength pressure washer (something north of 4,000 psi) and, obviously, your hot neighbor’s wet vac. I know what you’re thinking ... “but that’s my wet vac!” News flash: No it isn’t. Possession is like 99% of the law – especially when you’re covered in a moist patina of raw sewage, the aroma of which will surely penetrate the crack in your hot neighbor’s door and make her eyes snap open like you just cracked an ammonia capsule beneath her nose. Ammonia would of course be a godsend in this instance, by the way, but you fucked up and didn’t set clear boundaries from the start ... because she was hot? Now you’re both victims, except you’re still down one much-needed wet vac – one that you probably bought for just this kind of scenario. That’s what I am praying for, at least, because the two tarps and the drill are really fucking sus if you ask me.

Look dude, you know what to do, and hotness be damned. Would you be this lenient if it was one of your ugly-ass male friends? Of course not, although to be completely honest I’m still missing two chainsaws that I loaned out so long ago I can’t even remember who I loaned them to. And yes, I know you’re probably thinking: “Why did he have two chainsaws?” None of your damn business. See? At least one of us knows how to set limits!