|View from our bathroom window|
In the early summer of this year, he moved out and a new, young, university guy moved in. Surely he would have the decency to keep his pants on.
Some of you have already heard this story.
One night, while my cousin Catherine was staying with us, we decided to have dinner in the kitchen. Now, this is a rarity for us, because I hate looking at dishes, so I'd usually rather eat of my lap in the front room. So, I sit on the couch, and have a perfect view of the roof deck through the kitchen window.
|The kitchen window|
|Perfect vantage point|
And then he does something that I can't ignore.
He reaches into his pants and adjusts himself. Alright, so on the scale of adorable baby to fat man in a speedo, I put this below the speedo. Sometimes you've just gotta work out the kinks - or so I've been told.
If the whole thing had just stopped there, I think I could have moved on with my life, but I'm going to be honest with all of you: I've been traumatized.
Our illustrious neighbour then turna sideways, treating me to the vision of the largest erection I have EVER seen. Like, we're talking freakishly HUGE.... somewhere in the area of forearm length.
I was so scandalized, I actually shrieked, ducked under the table and started laughing hysterically. My cousin, who was visiting, came jumped up to see it, but the guy had left the roof top at that point.
We haven't seen him up there much since.
Now this guy lives in the main floor apartment of the house. He's an odd character, although I can't quite put my finger on why I think that. He's in his 40's, balding and pudgy and usually eats his lunch sitting out on the step.
Phil came out of the bathroom blubbering about mind bleach. He sat on the couch rocking back and forth until I roused him out of his stupor with a glass of whiskey. Sure, it was just after 10 in the morning, but the man needed something and I'd left my smelling salts back in the Victorian era.
"What's wrong, babe?" I asked, rubbing his back.
"You know the house behind us..." his voice trailed off and I gasped.
"Erection dude? Is he back and more exposed than ever?"
"No. Not him. Worse than that. You know, the older, weird guy in the bottom apartment... I just saw him in the kitchen," he took a gulp of whiskey, "He was frying bacon or something... and had forgotten to shut the blinds."
Now I was confused, "You need to shut the blinds to fry bacon?"
"Not usually. Only if you're doing it naked."
"It was bad. He just let it all hang out. I saw..." another gulp of the good stuff, "EVERYTHING. And now I'll never be able to unsee it."
Who fries bacon naked? I always end up burning my arm hairs if I wear a short sleeve shirt; why would you leave all that flesh exposed?
Neighbour #3 in the middle apartment, it's all up to you. Right now, you're the only safe spot to rest our eyes. Please, for the love of all things holy, keep your pants on and your man parts firmly stowed in anything-but-upright position.
It's all up to you. Godspeed neighbour #3.