seaslug

Squeaky goes all Jerry Springer an' shit

So, I'm sitting in my apartment reading my flist like any good citizen when I suddenly hear, "That's right, just let her sit on the fucking sidewalk!" Then comes the wailing, hiccuping tantrum of a small child, "waaaah hic hic waaaah!!"

"ZOMG!!" I think, "That sounds like my former neighbor from Pennsylvania, "The Woman Who Screams Fuck!" I look but I can't see anything.

A few minutes later a car horn starts up. "Beeeeeep!!" And then again, "Beeeeep!" I hear the sliding door upstairs swish open.

"EXCUUUUUSE ME!! EXCUUUUUUSE MEEEE!! THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE LIVING HERE!!!"

It's my upstairs neighbor, Squeaky Bed Sandy, yelling down at the clone of "The Woman Who Screams Fuck!" from her balcony.

"Well, you don't have to be rude about it." says the clone. Or, actually, it's the clone's sister! There are two of them I see. One of them is in the car with the tantrum child leaning on the horn.

"OH, I'M BEING RUDE!..."
"If you were polite and respectful maybe you would get better results."
"...YOU'RE THE ONE HONKING THE HORN AND MAKING ALL THE NOISE. THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD!"

Squeaky and the clone's sister start laying into each other. Then the clone turns to her sister in the car and starts yelling at her for beeping! The clone of "The Woman Who Screams Fuck!" yells back, "Hey, I got a four year old child waiting here!"

It's a festival of wack-jobs! The clone and the clone sister get in the car and drive off. Squeaky goes back inside her apartment, swearing under her breath. I can hear her stomping around. Every minute or so Squeaky opens her sliding door again and her voice carries down into my living room, *swish open* "...SON OF A BITCH..." *swish closed*. And then again, *swish open* "...MOTHERFUCKING STUPID..." *swish closed*.

Next, Squeaky walks downstairs wearing a short blue nighty, a small kitchen trash can in her hand and a cigarette hanging out of her gob. "What's their goddamn address. I'll make a complaint, see how they like that!" Squeaky walks up the sidewalk and squints at the next door neighbor's door and then starts walking back. I stroll out on my balcony and give her a smiling thumbs up because, well, I need LJ material always. I know she'll start ranting and she does.

"Imagine her telling me that I'm being rude! I've been living here for five years! They used to have flood lights when they first moved here and the neighbors must have said something. And that diesel! Have you heard that diesel? You're only supposed to run diesel for five minutes. That's the law! Did you know that was the law? Every morning he wakes me up with that diesel. I have the window open because it's hot! And this morning with that chain! Did you hear him with the chain? The father and the two sisters, they're pieces of work! The mother is low key, but the father and those two sisters!"

I nod assent with a smile, agreeing to everything. I joke with Squeaky to make her laugh and try to highlight the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

"What if I went under his window with a tambourine?" Squeaky asks. "Tambourine?" I think to myself, still with a smile on my face.

Life goes on and it's interesting.
  • Current Mood: I needed that
Maybe you secrete a pheremone that attracts insane neighbors. If so, it might have something to do with Pennsylvania, because judging from the people living across the street from me, I've started secreting that same pheremone. My neighbors have top-of-their-lungs "conversations," leading generally to hysterical crying or shrieking from the insane teenaged daughter, almost every night between midnight and three a.m.--on their front porch. In front of God and everyone, as they say, but mostly in front of me. Sometimes it's so intriguing I'm glad they wake me up, though.
Hey, you need to tell all on your LJ, you know.

Someday they will cart away the teenager, likely after a Murder.
We are blessed that you have found new interesting neighbors.

I knew you would.

Hooray! Jackie, faithful reader