The Neighbors: Chapter 2

Like a great many people in Southern California, I live in an old tract home neighborhood full of senior citizens, crazies, and the occasional nice family. And, like most people, I rather detest developments, but I also don't have 5 million dollars, so I don't have much of a choice.

My bedroom window faces the bedroom window of the one and only Joe Dirt. As in, the youngest son of THE NEIGHBORS. And by "faces" I mean it's so close I could stick my head out and spit into his bedroom. I have actually been tempted to do that on many occasions, and it's totally possible because he has neither a glass pane nor a screen over his window. Just a sheet. Which is part of the problem - because Joe Dirt watches tv 24 hours a day LOUDLY.

You may be thinking, Just shut your window genius. And my answer to that would be, I ALREADY DO. But I love fresh air and our house is old and gets kind of musty, so I like it cracked open (not enough though, obviously, to let in the devil's alligator lizard). I also have a fan to help block out the noise - I'm doing my part.

So. I woke up yesterday, my whacked-out internal clock still recovering from skipping time zones and a bit of jet lag, and the first thing I heard was Joe Dirt guffawing at some joke on tv. I stormed into my kitchen, and declared to my family that the only thing I hated hearing more than stupid chirpping birds in the morning was Joe Dirt and his loud-a tv.

"While I'm falling asleep all I can hear is Saved By The Bell or Fresh Prince. EVERY NIGHT. And this morning I woke up to Elf. Who watches Christmas movies in June anyway?!?"

"Well," said my dad, "it's better than porn."

Hm. True.

Thank you dad for pointing that out. Although I agree - that would be both uncomfortable and creepy. And if there is anything that THE NEIGHBORS don't need, it's more creepiness.