Sunday, September 6, 2009

Neighbours, Intimate Voyeurs

I have always been an apartment hopper, moving from place to place at least once a year. I had an itch you see, a yearning to never stay too long in one location and really it had a lot to do with trying new things on to see if they fit. Three years ago however that changed and although there have been a few times I would have loved to have picked up and moved I am generally really happy with our home.

Also, when we first purchased the house and were stopping by with our new keys to just walk around OUR NEW HOME, the cops showed up 15 minutes after we walked in the door. They were really nice, asked to see our Ids and mentioned that one of the neighbours did not recognise us and called them. To this day I still don’t know who called them, but that is when I realized that I am no longer in a building with a bunch of other twenty something’s that strain to ignore each other, I can count on one hand out of the 15 places that I have lived over the past 10 years who I knew in my building. Reality sunk in, I was in a neighbourhood with neighbours that LOVE to know what is going on at all times.

Two weeks later we had officially moved in, which meant that everything including our bed was at our new home. We were so excited for our first night, we had cooked a nice meal, watched a movie, and had just curled up in our bedroom with our windows thrown wide to catch the slight breeze when we heard it. The SCREAMING BANSHEE that lived next door had come home with her four Satan’s spawn un-behaved children. For the next two hours the man and his wife had an argument so loud that you could hear it through the windows we had now closed. It got to the point where we considered calling the cops but then all of a sudden it got blissfully quiet and we finally fell asleep. The next day we passed it off as an unfortunate event and moved on with our day only to have to listen to two more horrible screaming fights by our new neighbours that day.

Over the next six months the screaming and fighting never stopped. Every day, and sometimes two or three times the fighting would start and escalate to a screaming match. We were officially miserable and even regretted not doing a background check on who was going to be living next door. It was not like we would intentionally listen to the arguments, we really had no choice, and they were so loud it sounded like they were screaming in our ears. We finally just left the windows on their side of the house permanently shut and made sure to have a radio or a fan on to create white noise and try to drown out the horribleness of it all.

And then God heard our prayers and the horrible wife decided she wanted a bigger house for her growing brood, and magically one day a for sale sign showed up on their front lawn. We were ecstatic, so excited in fact that we opened a bottle of one of our best wines and toasted to the fact that they would soon be gone. And we did not even care who moved in, they could be the weirdest people in the world, what, you dye your dog pink and you think that your pet rock created the universe, we don’t CARE so long as you are QUIET!

We got so lucky with our new neighbours. As they moved in we peeked out the windows along with everyone else in the neighbourhood, OH goodie, a cute couple. No yappy dogs, check, no screaming uncontrollable children, check, and I swear we held our breath for the first two weeks anticipating the first fight, and it was QUIET! Over the weeks we slowly opened our windows more and more. Windows that were very stiff from not being used for six months.

Not only were they quiet but we also started becoming really close, tentative at first our relationship grew into a great friendship and I cannot tell you HOW MANY TIMES we have covered for each other, walking the dogs for me, or feeding her cats and picking up her mail, to letting each other in if the other is locked out. Mr. & Mrs. Rambo really have been a GODSEND. DING DING DING we have a winner here, they are perfect. Sometimes I feel like I won the lottery with them.

Today the Rambo’s had a Labor Day BBQ to celebrate not only the holiday but their fabulous birthdays as well. It was my favourite type of party because I could walk next door drink to my heart’s content and not have to drive home afterwards. This was the first party that Ms. Rambo threw that we were able to go to and let me tell you they know how to do it up. Of course we were the first there, Mr. Rogue actually stopped me from walking out of the house at 4:00 on the dot and made me wait an additional twenty minutes before we could go. As soon as we walked in the door the Patron shots started to flow almost immediately. Mr. Rogue and I had such a GREAT TIME! I love this man, isn’t he gorgeous!


Unfortunately he had more than his share of Patron which made my husband one of the first to pass out, oh yea and Mr. Fruit was the second, and I held on as long as I could. At one point in a drunken haze I was taking photos of myself, because that is what I do, and Ms. Rambo decided to eat my face. I am not really sure how that happened; it is all a bit fuzzy, maybe Ms. Rambo would care to explain herself?


So after many, many, many Patron shots and a few dozen cups of Margaritas’ mixed with a great group of people exhausted my poor little soul and I staggered off to bed. I woke up multiple times throughout the night cursing Ms. Rambo’s sirens call to drink Patron nectar, and for the nectar impairing my judgement so much that I could not stop myself. I learned two things at the party, 1. Stay away from the Patron, and 2 don’t mess with the Token Asian.


1 comment:

Ivy said...

Wow! What a party. I totally need to move in with them.

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