It's been a remarkably boring summer in the neighborhood. The neighbors used to provide me some small measure of amusement, but for the past several months they've completely let me down.
Cindy, the neighbor to the south, has been missing in action. Her last batch of illegal sub-tenants fled over a month ago and we've anxiously awaited the next round of grifters to arrive. But so far, nada. The word must be out on Craigslist about Cindy, word that she's a little... off.
And then there's Mary. She continued her sonic assault for several weeks. What had started as daytime offensive soon started running 24 hours a day. She ratcheted up the country music a little each day until it was so loud you could hear it in our house even with all the doors and windows closed. It was looking as if we might have to get the authorities involved and then suddenly it stopped. Maybe another neighbor complained. At any rate, after that she seemed to vanish. We've heard not a peep from her in weeks. At one point I grew concerned she may be dead. Perhaps "concerned" isn't the right word. "Amused"? I pictured the probable scenario - Mary had powered through an entire box of wine and as she stumbled into her living room she tripped over a stack of Home Shopping Network boxes and fell and cracked her head on her Hummel display case. But then we noticed her car was coming and going, so she's obviously still alive and kicking. She thankfully seems to have given up on harassing us. All the same, I still let my dogs shit on her lawn. Wouldn't want her to think we've let our guard down.
Jim, the Exterior Decorator has likewise been M.I.A. I was surprised to see the Fourth of July pass without so much as an inflatable Statue of Liberty. I chalked it up to his hernia operation back a few months. But then the other day I noticed he's been at work on his tree again, changing out the accessories. Go big or go home, they say, and Jim has clearly decided to supersize it. He's always had an assortment of potted plants hanging from the limbs, but now he's decided to swap them out for 30 gallon monsters. They're so big and heavy he's devised a complicated winch and hoist system to keep them aloft. There's so much rope and rigging in the tree now it looks like a three masted schooner.
And then there's Roz. Haven't seen hide 'nor big hair of her in months. That isn't to say there's no news. Disturbing news. It turns out Roz has a roommate...
The Lesbian!
I have to admit I didn't see that coming. Although in hindsight the cats we're probably a dead giveaway. I wouldn't presume to go so far as to imply they are.... lovers... mostly because that's a thought I just can't wrap my mind around. That would mean Roz would have to be a lipstick lesbian, albeit an aging, white trash lipstick lesbian circa 1986. And where I come from they just don't mesh with bulldykes. You'd be as likely to see those two co-habiting as you would a Blood and a Crip. But what do I know. It's not like there are a lot of choices for gay folk here. Maybe Bakersfield just makes for strange bedfellows.
Excuse me while I go try and scrub that image out of my brain.
