So, I have neighbors. I submit that with the same inflection as if I were announcing my contraction of some affliction such as shingles or acne. Sad that there’s not some available topical ointment that one can apply to neighbors to reduce the irritation.
Sometimes, I have loud neighbors who play their ranchera/narcocorrido music too loud (hell it doesn’t have to be too loud, just playing that particular genre with its incessant boomboomboom is grating enough). Sometimes I have visible neighbors such as the girlfriend of a tenant who’s lately taken to sunlounging her pasty heroin chicness in the courtyard right outside my livingroom window. Then there’s the smoker on the fourth floor who lights up often on his balcony and whose cigstank for whatever fluke of air-current physics and topography always gets windsheared down two flights and into my bedroom. Occasionally I have that ideal neighbor who I never see nor hear nor smell, but then occasionally I also have delusions of such considerate, amenable creatures so they all might be figments of my imagination.
Then there are the neighbors who are just pants-on-backward weird. No fiction them.
Like right now, there’s this lady in the apartment across from me who just adores my two cats who enjoy laying around the courtyard like little area rugs. She literally showers them with affection and attention like they were her own. But dang if she doesn’t just shut the love down and practically run inside if I come outside to empty the trash or to take a load of clothes to the laundry.Worse! On those times where we meet each other coming or going, when I throw out some casual time-appropriate greeting I don’t so much as get a grunt or nod or a smile or a belch in return. Just a frosty shoulder as she looks away and hustles on by me.
Blame it on my BO? Well, maybe on occasion. A language barrier, perhaps? That would be nice, but nada. I’ve heard her talk to the friggin’ felines, baby. Accented yes, but English all the way. And that’s right, she’ll converse with my cats, but can’t say word one to me. WTF!
Not sure if its the yin or the yang in me, but one of ’em so wants to ultimatum her with a “Howsabout you just keep your hands off my cats until you can cough up some congeniality for their guardian, eh chica?”
But I won’t. Besides, freak or not, she’s kind to them and my cats dig the attention and I’ll suffer just about any fool if it means my animals have a better day.