I'm gonna be that cranky old grouch who yells at you "Don't you walk on my grass! Get offa my property!!" I'll be permanently stationed at a window, and I'll peer at you from behind the curtains and yank them back in place when you look over.
I will never leave the house--a few brave delivery men will pile household necessities on my steps. I will wear the same sweat-suit every day, except when I'm "cleaning" it. Laundering it consists of step-step-steping on it, like I'm squishing grapes, in a few inches of grey bath water that I keep. I keep forgetting that I don't like the taste of that water. I will accumulate too many pets and name them all "You!" The wild cats out back will be named "You Get!" and they will pick at the garbage that I leave outside the back door. It will smell in the general vicinity of my house.
I will watch TV at top volume. In the blue glow of the TV I will wander from room to room, looking out each window, vigilant. You don't want to come ring my bell. You will give my place a wide berth.
And then, maybe Neighbor 1 won't sit on my porch on a hot and humid Saturday morning for an hour and a half and talk at me while I hold my unread newspaper in my lap. Talk at me until he and the heat and humidity have sucked what remains of the oxygen from the air and running becomes dangerous. And maybe Neighbor 2 will stop walking right into my house without ringing the bell and wandering around until she finds me in some remote room. And maybe I won't have to hide for 30 minutes in the kitchen because Neighbor 3 thinks I must be in there somewhere and rings, and rings, and rings the doorbell. And calls, and calls, and calls me on my phone. And yells, and yells, and yells for me through the open living room window.
I love my neighborhood. It's a friendly neighborhood--there's almost always someone sitting on a porch somewhere to stop and say hello to. I'm a sociable neighbor, but I usually don't stay to chat long--I operate according to a simple rule of thumb--it's time to push on when I've finished the coffee/water/beer in my hand. Over-staying is more than just impolite, it's cruel. Especially to those of us who for some unknown reason are incapable of making any lame excuse in the book to extricate.
Neighbour 2 sounds like they'd feel the full inverse-welcome from Greavsie if they did that in my House.
Posted by: Greavsie | June 29, 2005 at 08:23 AM
Can't you shoot people if they enter your property in America?
Posted by: Ron | June 29, 2005 at 09:33 AM