One of the worst things about where we used to live, and there were quite a few, were the neighbors. From Mr. Swastika, to the lady who showed up on my front porch in her pajamas to ask me to turn down my music (I didn’t have any music on), to the drug dealer who kept asking Brie out: I was glad to leave them behind. Yet having neighbors such as these makes you kind of skeptical about who your next set might be.
So it’s understandable that when I was getting ready to move into our abode, I was interested to know what my new neighbors would be like. I had heard from the landlord that our neighbors in number 1 consisted of 2 gentlemen who were really nice; and she was sure we’d be good friends. 2 single gentlemen: one for me and one for Brie? It sure sounded like a win-win to me! And when I caught a glimpse of one of them I thought “hubba hubba!” But then when I saw the other one walking a Shih Tzu, I knew it was none for me, none for Brie. Oh well…
Regardless, we did get to know them and they are great neighbors. We’ve been over to their immaculately decorated townhouse for parties, we have cleaned off each other’s cars in the winter, and we talk a lot and share stories: Scott and Mark are great! I couldn’t love them more.
However: no matter how nice on the outside, do you really know your neighbors? If something seems too good to be true, usually it is. And I believe I discovered this one night a little over 3 years ago.
It was probably around 10:30 at night. I was in bed, lights out, watching a little TV. Probably something reality-based on VH1, but that’s irrelevant. Presently, I heard an engine outside, clear as day (since my window was open). Aha! I thought: Brie is trying to sneak my car out. So I looked out my window…
My car was intact, but there was a big silver truck right under my window! It didn’t look familiar; but then I figured that sometimes Mark and Scott had company over. Since I only had one car then, I didn’t mind if their company sometimes parked in my extra spot. That’s what neighbors do, right?
I went back to my show; but a couple of minutes later the motor of the truck was still running. I looked out the window again, and this time the inside light came on. I could see a guy behind the wheel with a black baseball cap pulled low, and a black hoodie. Huh: he didn’t look like the kind of guy that usually visited my neighbors. So what could be going on? Was it maybe someone who had showed up at the wrong location?
This was way more interesting than whatever I had been watching, so I turned off the TV and peered, Gladys Kravitz-style, out the window. How long was this guy going to sit there, anyway? Suddenly, I saw him reach behind the seat and grab something. What was he getting? And then I saw it: little plastic bags! Good Lord: he was a drug dealer!
Just when I thought it was safe: just when I thought I had left all of that behind at 441: it had followed me to my new safe haven. But the worst part was: that meant my wonderful neighbors were drug users and had their dealer parked in MY spot so they could come out and buy their drugs.
The disillusionment was crushing. Those nice guys with the nice little dog and cat: my heart was broken. Well then, should I call the cops? What would Gladys Kravitz do? I figured I should at least try to get a glimpse of the guy’s face and try to see exactly what kind of ‘wares’ he was delivering.
I looked again and saw him fiddling with the bags; then I saw him answer his cell phone. And pull out another phone as well! How much business did this character have, anyway? I was so disgusted by my sick, twisted neighbors that I figured it would serve them right if I did call the police! I reached for my cell phone, picked it up, and then noticed someone opening the passenger door of the truck. However, it wasn’t Scott or Mark who got in, but: BRIE!
WTF????? What was my precious, innocent little girl doing getting into a vehicle with a suspected Colombian drug lord? Now I was REALLY looking out the window! I saw her take a couple of the little plastic bags and look at them. Did she even know what she was viewing? Oh, the humanity!
If you think this was the worst moment for me, imagine how I felt when I realized she didn’t have any money with which to purchase drugs. She had been involved in an accident and wasn’t able to return to work yet. So how was she going to be able to pay for her drugs? Then it hit me: she was going to have to perform an…oral service in exchange for her drugs!
Over my dead body, I thought. There was only one way to stop what was about to happen in that truck: I had to jump out of my window, land on the hood and then rescue my innocent daughter. I was just about to raise my window more so I could open the screen when suddenly my cell phone rang, scaring the daylights out of me. I saw Brie's name on my screen. What to do??? I answered, feigning I was just waking up. “Wha—hello?”
“Mom, what are you doing?” “I was sleeping.” “Oh, sorry to wake you but Bo's here and he just got a new high tech cell phone and we’re trying to figure out how to use it but we can’t get the back open. Do you have one of those little jewelry screwdrivers we can borrow?”
Bo, one of her friends that she’s known for many years. Oy vey… “Sure honey, I’ve got one.” “Great; I’ll be right up. I’ll bring the phone so you can see it: it’s so cool!” “Okay see you in a minute.”
Can you imagine my relief, and mortification? Not only had I jumped to conclusions, I had almost jumped out of my window! And what did I think I was going to do if I had landed on the top of that truck, besides be taken to the hospital?
Anyway: the reputation of Scott and Mark was saved, my daughter’s virtue, such as it was, remained intact, and I received no broken bones in the process. So it looked like my neighbors weren’t too good to be true: they are just good.
Hmm: I wonder how amused they'd be if they knew this story???
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