Theresa “Terry” Toombs of 132 Institute Rd. – aka “The Boob”

By Rosalie Tirella

How weird can Worcester get?

This weird: The guy I go out with says that all summer long, whenever Terry Toombs of 132 Institute Rd, saw him (walking his dog, etc), she made it a point to stand in front of her dining room picture window – a huge one – and fold laundry infront of it – topless. With all the lights on! Totally naked from the waist up! Naked, naked, naked!

“Gross!” I said.

“Weird,” said my guy.

Weighing about 300 pounds, looking unkempt and dirty, Topless Terry (now aka The Boob) has no chance of sleeping with my guy. “I would fuck one of the sons first!” he has said.

Yet Terry loves to leer at him.

So in front of the picture window she goes – folding laundry for him, getting her sick kick out of this behavior, having her secret dirty fun. How vulgar. How shameless. Married and with two grown sons living in the same house.

I pity the poor WPI student who may get a look at Worcester’s Boob as he or she is walking in front of the Toomes’ residence to one of the student apartments on upper Institute Rd. How sad. The WPI kids, maybe their first time away from home, get a full dose of Worcester low-life-ness. Another reason to leave Worceter forever, the night of graduation, they probably tell themselves. I can picture their vacation conversations with pals. Maybe their friends go to Columbia or NYU. When they get together over school break, the Columbia kids regale their WPI friends with stories of the Big Apple. Not to worry! Our WPI students can come back with tales of The Big Boob – Terry Toombs of 132 Institute Rd. (She really should be living on Caro Street)

How weird that The Boob and her husband and two man-children would land in Worcester’s chi chi West Side. Nothing about them is a fit for the land of doctors, teachers and business owners. For instance, The Boob has the dirtiest mouth this side of Park Ave – the filthiest mouth the West Side of Worcester has ever heard! “Get in this house, you fuckin’ cocksucker!” my guy has heard her scream to her little old wizened husband. “You cocksucker!” she screams – I have heard this term of endearment, too. The Boob is loud and coarse sounding. When my guy mimics her, he sounds just like one of the Monty Python guys in drag. Sometimes I’ll ask him to do his impression of The Boob. We both giggle when he hams it up! Once my guy said: You know, if you put together all of the their best body parts together, you culdn’t make one half-good-looking human.

But there’s more. Not only does he and neighborhors have to listen to “cocksucker this and cocksucker that” all the time – as soon as the Toombs pile out of their van and hit the pavement in front of their home. (Yes, let’s have our domestic tranquility shattered courtesy of Terry Toome! The Boob!) They also have to deal with people who dump crap in their back yard and on the sidewalk in front of their house. This past summer (probably in her glory), The Boob literaly took apart a sofa in her driveway. Too cheap to have it hauled away – she and a pal sat in the summer heat pulling old batting out of pillows, etc, leaving the coils and frame sitting there.

When the Toombs first moved in my guy and I nicknamed them the Clampetts – after the 1960s TV show, The Beverly Hillbillies. They seemed to swim in ignorance and revel in their stupidity. The Clampetts would take a part their sofa in the middle of their neighborhood. In fact we have been calling the Toomes the Clampetts for so long, my guy sometimes doesn’t even remember their last name – or first. Yet The Boob feels she has the right to get close …

The boob.

But here is the hitch: The Boob, who used to be a legal secretary (thank you Worcester legal community), must be farily shrewd because she and her clan pay their mortgage without hardly lifting a finger. In fact this crowd – including the sons who must be in their mid thirties had NO job amongst them all. ZERO job – zero work ethic. The Toombs play the system – a system that landed them in a nice house (which they are quickly turning into a dump) in the West Side! The four of them combined get their welfare, SSI, retirement and other entitlement checks to pay their mortgage. Meals on Wheels, free homemaker services, free PCA services, free house repairs by Lowes, free handicapped ramp (which they don’t use but hang their laundry on to dry) by the Worcester Fire Department firefighter – volunteer carpenters. They have asked my guy to do stuff for them – plow them out for free, free jumps to their car battery. They are the laziest people I have ever seen. And yet no one has called them on this – FRAUD. No one has seen The Boob rip out tree stumps out of her backyard one summer and then have community volunteers rake and landscape their entire backyard the NEXT summer, while the Boob and her family did nothing. Just sat in their house. I witnessed this a few summers ago. (They have lived on 132 Institute Rd. for about 3 1/2 years)

I mean how much TV can you watch? How long can you play computer games?

Yet this bullshit, courtesy of the taxpayer, has enabled the Toombs to pool all their entitlement checks to pay the mortgage and other notes on their house and take month long vacations in Texas or Florida. And to bear their boobs!

But do they thank the community that enables them? Do they even pick up the crap in their yard? No Terry Toomes – in her mid-fifties – bares her breasts. The Toombs eat their free meals on wheels (I thought the meals were for the house-bound elderly), collect their disability checks and, in general, degrade themselves, and the West Side neighborhood they lucked into – courtesy of some great Worcester lawyers – pals. One being Mark Maynard! They run, walk, haul things around, take sofas apart. How are they qualified for free homemaking? Free meals?

The West Side of Worcester thanks you, Mr. Maynard. You managed to get friends of friends into a pretty exclusive neighborhood only to have them turn it into their personal pigsty.

Leave a Reply