Monday, January 31, 2011

Mi Casa

One day last week my neighbours disappeared. I noticed they were gone because their lights didn't come on for three days in a row. The next day a guy in white shoes walked across my lawn. A real estate agent let him and a small group of others in and I saw them as I crouched on my kitchen floor and peeped through the window. One guy opened the shed door and closed it. Another twisted the blinds opene and closed. I imagine the guy with white shoes went to the main bedroom and sniffed the light switch.

I didn't really know my neighbours at all. I said 'Hello' every now and again when we had the shared misfortune of taking the bins out at the same time. They didn't really seem like they wanted to talk to me and it became more awkward to breach the abyss of chitter chatter ho humness as each month passed. I went and introduced myself to the Dad when they moved in but I forgot his name before I walked back across my lawn. I think it was TJ. Initial contact.

They weren't bad neighbours in that I never really saw them. I did hear the mum tell her kids off and the young girl chuck tantrums over and over every night. There has been at least four sets of neighbours living nextdoor since I've lived here. I've only really known one of them.
Here I will profile them:

The Bogans
When I first moved in the house nextdoor was inhabited by a young couple. The backyard looked like the super pit. There was a massive hole with broken tables and chairs. They had a dog that never got walked and spent it's time chewing on a car tyre. It looked like it probably had killed a toddler. I think it's name was LLeyton Hewitt or Castrol . One time I came home and they were sitting on a couch on top of their landcruiser drinking UDLs and looking down the street. Another night I came home and the guy was watching porno on his massive TV with the blinds open and the sound cranked. Talk about wankers.

The Nicest Guy
The nicest guy moved in about three years ago. He was the nicest, most politest, friendliest guy I had ever met. He apologised for his noisy kids profusely and his kids weren't even noisy. he had a sweet moustache. He went to the Philippines and brought me back packets of dried mango snacks for collecting his mail. My dog humped his kids legs. He asked if he could watch me mow my lawn and took great interest when I showed him where the petrol went. he moved out because the rent was too expensive. I curse his greedy custard slopping landlords daily. I miss him.

The Octagon.
The next family that moved in had a dad with an octagon head. It was amazing. Other than that there's not much other distinguishing features. The mum yelled at the kid each afternoon when he came home from school. They never went in the backyard.

I think people don't stay very long nextdoor because of me. They've probably glimpsed my wang as I've sneaked from the shower to the laundry for clothes. Or they've heard me rapping to my garageband tracks at high volume. Or they've noticed I fraternise with redheads. Or they've seen me eating mayonnaise.

1 comment:

every man is an island said...

i'm completely surrounded by fluro collar workers.one side are kick boxing enthusiasts,who along with 2 or 3 carloads of their fellow subspecies engage in weight sessions out the front(no less)every other night.they sit in a toddlers pool drinking,shirtless(latent hom..)and they leave an empty box for a tv almost as big as my bed,around the side just to taunt me.they also have a certain flag on their nissan(possibly anguillian i'm not sure) along with some stickers,one that mocks toyota's and one that says "FROTHIN"
you would love them!