I canÂ’t fully explain my hatred for them. I canÂ’t complain about the way they maintain their house or their landscaping, itÂ’s almost perfect. They donÂ’t have parties, theyÂ’re not too noisy and they pressure clean the sidewalks. But they are indeed strange people.

IÂ’ve been in this house about five years now and up until last month weÂ’ve never really spoken. Almost every time IÂ’m coming or going I see one of them skulking over there. I always wave and smile, just in case, because thatÂ’s the kind of guy I am. If they happen to glance up they will return a wave but you can tell itÂ’s taxing them. Some people just donÂ’t exude warmth.

IÂ’ve always suspected theyÂ’re up to no good. For one thing theyÂ’re always pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of theyÂ’re house on the phone. ItÂ’s not a cell phone either; itÂ’s just the cordless phone from the house. And though IÂ’ve heard them speak English they also mumble in a tongue that I canÂ’t identify, though I suspect itÂ’s Greek.

In the last week I noticed an addition to the family. An old man in a wife-beater that sits in a lawn chair out front all day. ItÂ’s very classy. Of course thereÂ’s nothing anyone can do about it. ThereÂ’s no bi-law in the HOA rules that says an old man canÂ’t sit out front in his undershirt all day like a fucking Turkish coppersmith or something. And now that the long summer evenings have arrived the new ritual is for the whole clan to bring their lawn chairs out back every night, face them towards my house, and watch me barbeque. They simply stare at me. The first time I go out there IÂ’ll give a quick wave and one of them will return it, but thatÂ’s the extent of our communication. I canÂ’t begin to tell you how uncomfortable it is.

One night about two years ago I overheard an argument while I was taking out the trash. It was one of the few times I actually heard anything from that direction. It was the younger one and he seemed to be dressing down the rest of them. The one clear statement I heard, repeated twice, was, “That’s worshipping false idols!” He was screaming it at the top of his voice.

On that note I retreated to the relative safety of my couch and wondered if I should fire a couple of warning shots through their front bay window. Kind of a preemptive strike on whatever brand of insanity may have brewing been over there. My wife reasoned against it as sheÂ’s wont to do on those infrequent occasions when I become agitated.

Since then I have suspected they are some type of Christian crazies. Whenever I hear a family argument about “worshipping false idols” I suspect the worst. One of them probably bought a garden gnome or something and it set off the crazy factor.

I remain vigilant.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:19 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 505 words, total size 3 kb.