Another Battle with the Neighbor

The neighbor Greg has begun to say hello to me again. This, after months of coordinated blindness when we pretend we don't actually see each other out on the sidewalk. It annoys the crap out of me that he has started to say hello to me in the morning because the last thing he said to me was, "Ponygirl, the last thing I want to do first thing in the morning is talk to you." And here he is talking to me first thing in the morning.

So yesterday morning I was leaving my apt. to get some milk from the corner store and he said hello and I was not in a mood. My brain was still itching from all the sugared sweets and gallons of coffee I had drunk the day before and I probably shouldn't have said anything but:

GREG: Hello Ponygal
ME: ...
GREG: How are you today?
ME: ...
ME: Hey Greg, it's nice that you are saying hello to me now, I guess that's your way of letting me know that you want to get past the whole thing with the shoes.
GREG: Well, actually, I have no intention of moving my shoes.

Let me just point out that I've been living with the shoe thing for over a year and I did not just ask him to move his motherfucking shoes. But whatever.

ME: Yeah, well I just decided to live with that. But this no-talking thing has been going on for a long time, and I wanted to tell you that I was really offended by the way I tried to work this thing out with you but in response you said something that really wasn't helpful to the situation and I felt kind of insulted. But I'm willing to just let it blow over if you are.
GREG: Well I don't think what I said was insulting. I have a lot of other things to do besides deal with problems around here and I was just letting you know that. If you were insulted that's your problem.
ME: Wow, ok. I have a problem with the insulting way you talk to me.

All I can say is that the conversation spiraled into Dante's 7th circle of hell from there. It got to this point:

ME: Well while we are on the subject of problems around the house, let me just tell you that someone upstairs has some seriously squeaky bedsprings. The kind that wake me up in the middle of the night and allow me to time the act.

And then it got to this point:

GREG: I would appreciate it if you would make an appointment with us whenever you have something to talk about.
ME: Nah, I'll just go back to not talking to you.