Wednesday, April 14, 2010

The Neighbor Guy Chronicles: Part I

So as I promised, here's the scoop on my neighbor: We have speculated that he's either a drug dealor or a pimp. We being my dad, myself, my mom and my friends. And here I present the evidence . . .

I don't know my neighbor's name, and though he's been called lots of names (insert listed profanity here), for all intensive purposes we'll call him "neighbor guy". The previous neighbor guy and neighbor guy family were awesome. I never realized how awesome they were until current neighbor guy moved in. Let me tell you folks, the grass is always greener. Previous neighbor guy had two (ish) kids, a sweet wife, an awesome dog, mowed the lawn, jogged at night, kept his place tidy and waved at you when you passed by. My other surrounding neighbor guys are like this as well essentially save some editable details. Currrent neighbor guy is nothing like this.

When he first came, he came with an entourage. Or at least it might as well of been because he had a gigunda trailer and moved his house in stages I think with vehicles a'plenty.. And of course, he had no consideration for where he parked his trailer. Meaning he didn't give a crap if him parking his trailer on that side meant that we had to do a twenty point k-turn to get out of our driveway versus parking further down which did not mean such. Wait, gets better.

In association with neighbor guy comes neighbor guy's family and neighbor guy's toys. Family first: He himself is an interesting fellow. It's as if Mark Twain had bad style from the 90's (light blue tapered jeans, fluffy white sneakers, etc) and coupled that with a mad scientist meets angry jackass face look. I've never seen him smile and doubt I ever will. He always walks with intent, though strongly sauntering and if you just happen to be in his presence though not an integral part of it, you will be briefly glanced over though not acknowledged. The only way even this will happen is if you come within his bubble. He will not look up to notice you. Too much effort. Then there's his meek as a mouse wife. You can tell she's a good person, though she looks weathered and as though life has beaten her down a bit. Or he has. It seems as though she doesn't take much pride in her appearance and though I've seen her dress nicely on few occasions, her traditional state of attire is simple and effortless. And when I say effortless, I don't mean Jackie-O or Nicole Kidman effortless, I mean with lack of effort. She looks down when walking and sort of slouches. At leas she acknowledges your existence. The daughter(s), unsure if it's two or if it's one with lots of Beyonce-esque wardrobe changes, is interesting in her own right. Angsty teenage girl meets socialite. Straight flat -ironed dark hair, thin as a toothpick frame with teenage meets punk rock style. I'll give her credit for being individual. I've never heard the family mention more than few words in passing to each other and I'm not sure if the tention is normal, anger induced or sheer neglect. They also have a dog. Either a husky or a malabute, not sure because he's quite lean. Cute as a button though. He sits on the chair in their front window, peering outside hoping you are the one he wants to be home. They've recently taken to setting him outside via long leash during semi-sunny days. Maybe they think he needs to work on his vitamin D. However, I know for a fact that he gets plenty when they aren't around. I know this because he houdini's out of the backyard and starts wandering the neighborhood yards with boy curiosity and purpose. And if you happen to catch him in this act, he gives you a look that's a cross between trouble maker and "you won't tell on me, will you?". I think that dog is the smartest out of all of them.

The toys: When we first came, we came in tow with the Escalade (of course!), an older 90's drop drop two door mercedes and an awesome jet black 60's or early 70's corvette. Please note, unless we are discussing the oldies version of this car, I do not care for it. It's a mid-life crisis car. The corvette sat initially on the street prior to becoming a permanent driveway fixture. And when I say "in the street", I mean in the street. Most people, out of general consideration and respect for the law, will park their street vehicles with one tire on their property and the other side on the street. Not this guy. It's full street. This would later be established as his irritatingly standard method for parking. So, as everyone knows, it rains a lot in Oregon. If I had a nice car, I would make sure it's covered to ensure a lack of body damage during the rainy season. Not this guy. Grant you, he keeps it covered, but half hazardly and not with much care. This later became incredibly irritating as I watched the car deteriate. Later down the line, a later 90's beamer is introduced, the corvette majically disappears to never be seen again and a boat becomes parked in their driveway. Literally. A boat. And the mercedes because an occasional guest. Now because the boat is parked in the driveway rather than the yard, we are unable to park both cars (escalade and beamer) in the driveway at the same time. This further perpetuates the craptastic street parking choices. I've combated the blank brain thinking twice by subtly reminding him of his jackassness. Once by pulling up a foot away from where he was standing in order to perform my k-turn to back into my driveway because his boat of a vehicle was parked in the way. The other time I pulled up very close to his vehicle when I was backing up while he was still in the vehicle. We gave each other a look. My frustration later bloomed tenfold upon discovering that low and behold, both vehicles could fit in the driveway with the boat. He was just being a terd. Remind me to send him a thank you note. Fast forward to today, boat moves into yard, room becomes exponentially multiplied in the driveway, we still park in the street (and so do our friends & family) but it's less often.

So by now, you might be wondering what all this has does to suggest his pimp & dealer status. the answer is nothing, it's just ammusing background. The pimp & dealer staus is lent to by the fact that he's never home until late at night, leaves at all hours throughout the night and early morning, is home during the day at random times, carries around large black duffle bags often and of course, his all around dickheadish demeanor.

There's more, but I'll let that marinate for awhile. Think about it . . .

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