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Troubled Women

I’m very attached to two strange and troubled women. Let me explain. I live in a townhouse which is attached on both sides by two other townhouses. In the townhouse on the right, as you’re facing my home, lives a woman who bangs on the walls a lot; it’s her way of complaining that my husband and I are too noisy and should move to Iraq. She bangs on the walls while we’re walking, reading, talking, watching television or bathing. I’m afraid to have sex because post coitus knocking makes me think about Jehovah’s Witnesses and vaginas, and I imagine Jehovah’s Witnesses have bad vaginas. Once she knocked so loudly I went to her house to investigate. Her mother answered the door and I noticed their downstairs television was on, its volume barely audible. Her mother, a kind, tiny, toothless elderly woman—who reminds me of Granny Clampett on the Beverly Hillbillies—apologized to her daughter for having the television on. But our neighbor, who always looks tired and carries the expression of one who is pissed at the world for having people in it, responded to her mother’s apology by saying she gets confused and does not know exactly where the noise is coming from, and that her other neighbors are also too noisy. Amidst a slew of words like bitch, mother fucker and asshole, one day I overheard her threats to return to our yard some leaves that had fallen from our small tree, even though we live in a wooded area with acorns and leaves everywhere.

We often hear her cursing loudly on the phone at her family members; some of the conversation, I sure, can be heard overhead from low flying aircraft. Her mother told me her daughter is stressed and has lots of problems, but has a good heart. She may have a good heart but she also has a habitual lying problem. Recently she called the police to report us moving furniture about, keeping her awake…It was 10:30pm and we were in bed and the bed was not moving. Maybe I should  refer her to 1-800-EXORCIST.

The other neighbor, on the right of us, is not a people person and I have absolutely no idea why she’s angry a lot. She once hinted that perhaps I was responsible for the hard boiled eggs thrown in her back yard. Who boils eggs before they throw them?  Her rage is often directed at her husband, son, and neighbors. One day she’ll smile and say hello, another day she avoids us as though we’ve broken into her home and painted her walls with shit and Nazi slogans. Her husband, who seems to be about the kindest man in America, must be living in hell. She can be heard speaking to her him as though he’s an unruly child servant with chronic flatulence. I’ve yet to see her smile or speak kindly to her son. Maybe he killed their dog.

About their dog: I don’t know what happened to that menacing big, white dog, but on a number of occasions he almost made it over their fence to get at me for being stupid enough to do a bit of gardening near my fence. She stopped speaking to me for years after I told her I was afraid her dog would one day make it over the fence and chew my flesh. She also stopped speaking to a neighbor because he refused to get new fence; a fencing contractor agreed to reduce the cost of “upgrading” her fence if she could find a neighbor/neighbors who agreed to have their fence upgraded at the same time. She’s like a feral cat that hides when people are around (she won’t leave her car or house if we are nearby), but would happily shit in your flower pot when you’re gone.

I’ve prayed to the almighty god Thor and asked him/her (Thor’s a hermaphrodite) to turn my temperamental neighbors into disabled dust mites but that hasn’t happened yet. I may have to find myself another god. I won’t use the one Donald Trump uses…have you seen what his god did to his hair?!?

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