HIPPO BRIGADE

My New Neighbors

For about 6 months the home that shares a wall with us was vacant. And before it was vacant, there was this very quiet hispanic family that lived there. I think it was a family of five, and I’m pretty sure they walked around with carne asada in their mouths all the time, because seriously, not a peep. Oh, and there was this crazy uncle that lived there and he worked at the Marriott down the road, and he loved my pug, and one day I saw his very long pinky nail, it was painted light blue…with sparkles. I don’t know if that meant he was gay or a druggie, or both. But after that I started to wink at him. It was my saucy way of communicating, ‘I know about your blue nail,’ but then he got the wrong idea and he asked me out on a date. But I said no, because I’m not into guys with a blue sparkle nail who work at the Marriott, and then they moved. I think I made them move. 

But anyway this nice enough couple with their year old baby girl just moved in. And I was all, YEA! Another chance to work on my winking, so it is not to be misconstrued as a sexual innuendo. Plus maybe I’ll be besties with the wife, and we’ll do the things that stay at home moms do, like swap casserole recipes, and talk about how awesome Berlyn is. 

And just as I was imagining what color we’d paint our toenails at our tandem pedicure appointment, the BANGING started. And it went on for two weeks straight. OH, but they were nice enough to save their construction efforts for weekends and after work. So 10:30 at night I’d hear the nail gun shooting holes into their walls, and the air compressor for their paint gun thing, and their shitty Creed CD that they played over and over and over, and I think I’m just jealous because they scraped the cottage cheese off their ceilings, and my cottage cheese still hangs, taunting me with its dangly cobwebs and sallow color.   

So now they blew it. I’m not going to be besties with the wife next door, because she likes Creed, and has no common deciency, and how could I be friends with someone like that? Sure, I’ll be cordial, perhaps copy a few pages out of Emily Post, and stick it in her mailbox The part where it’s not polite to do construction if you have an ajoing wall without first bringing your neighbors some delicious cake with sprinkle frosting, or offer to scrape their celings too. 

I wish my hispanic neighbors with the carne asada would move back in, I might even over look the blue sparkle nail.