Please tell me that we’re all voyeurs at heart. It can’t just be me, can it? You see, I tend to
spy keep a friendly eye on the neighbour who lives behind me.
About 7 years ago he bought the place across the back alley, tore it down, and built this million+ home with a man who I assume was his partner at the time. I watched the work progress, the two of them out there day after day carrying cement blocks for the garden, sharing in frequent smoke breaks, and alternate shout outs to their dog “Tippy” (not gay at all) as he became accustomed to his new digs.
Two years later, the work was finally complete and apparently, so was the relationship. A new man moved in. He was older and way less attractive than the previous partner I got to watch with no shirt and some muscle. However, to each his own and the pair seemed to enjoy the fruits of the previous lover’s labour in the new, terraced backyard.
Speaking of homes, at some point in the last year and a half, I went out on what turned out to be a fruitless search for a new house. Wouldn’t you know that the realtor showing one of these houses was none other than the neighbour out back? We spoke a little, he asked what I was looking for and all the other standard realtor questions. A week later, he left a flyer in my mailbox asking if he could represent me in the real estate market. My initial and lasting thought was buddy, you can’t represent me, I’ve seen you naked, entertaining, burn through two partners (he was now well into his third – better looking than the second but still can’t hold a candle to the first) and smoke like three packs a day meaning he may not be around long enough to see my real estate deal go through.
I didn’t respond to the neighbour. I chickened out. I kind of like our relationship the way it is. Me, gazing down into his infatuating gay world, him thinking I’m a cougar he’d like to represent if only he could figure out what it takes to woo a luscious client such as myself.
This week he’s digging out something in his backyard, which means lots of screen time for me. Incidentally, his new partner has the same kind of dog as “Tippy,” so I’m thinking these two may be in it for the long haul. I do hope my neighbour has finally found someone to share his fabulous million dollar home with. On the other hand, I can’t say that I don’t enjoy the drama of the partner rotation. I know I’m sick but….
Woah! Two women working in the garden with them. Gotta go.