ME: Sometimes, I lay on my bathroom floor and listen to my downstairs neighbors through the vent. They are really boring.
MY BROTHER: Sometimes I spy on the Asian people next door….they are usually boring…but also weird and creepy:
A lady, a lot older than she looks, counting money at table. Two younger Asians arrive home with takeout, she immediately puts the money in her purse and gets on the floor and starts scrubbing frantically, they come in and walk around and over her as if she’s not there. They go upstairs, she sits at table again and fingers the money in her purse, checks her cell-phone, looks impatient and nervous, and finally closes blinds.
No, she didn’t run off with anyone…she’s still around. Odd
ME: I like your Asian neighbors. They sound neat. I think I am surrounded by a bunch of Appalachian Mountain transplants. In the warmer months, a small group of dirty, bearded men gather on the front porch and strum their banjos while singing the same “marry your cousin and have three headed babies” tune over and over again. I’m pretty sure they run a meth lab out of their basement too. It wouldn’t be so bad if they were good, But they aren’t.
MY BROTHER: I miss the neighbors that used to come home every Saturday with a truckload of live chickens, and butcher and clean them all day long in the backyard. They rinsed them in a kiddie-pool filled with bleach-water.
