My neighbourhood has gone downhill. There used to be a time where a girl could just park her bike against a lamppost, or take a shower at 6am, speak english to her children in public or sit in her car an extra few minutes before getting out because that song is too good to stop halfway. Nowadays I have to face a nosey neighbour when doing any of the above.
'You bike is too close to my car, what if a gush of wind comes and blows it over?'. Lady, I beg to differ. Your car is too close to my bike, what if I want to unlock it from the other side and can't get to it because of YOUR car? Your 15 year old, already completely scratched up, car.
'Who on earth is showering at 6am in your house? It wakes me up every single morning, I sleep with my head right next to the water main!'. Yes, well, that would be us, who have kids who wake us up at those ridonkulous hours of the night, and who have actual jobs to go to that require leaving the house early in the morning. Just to clarify, the one with the job would be not me. Don't you live alone, Aren't there 2 other rooms you could sleep in? Wouldn't you be happier living in some less densely populated area where the only thing that could keep you awake might be, oh say, the need to hunt for your next meal?
'We live in Holland, you know.' This one I'm actually pretty grateful for. I had been so confused as to what this odd place I've been living in for 29-and-a-half years (yes, the big three-oh and its impending doom is drawing nigh) was called for so many years and what the language was that I was supposed to be speaking. Everything is finally falling into place.
The car thing freaked me out big time. There I was, sitting in the driver's seat, in the dark, engine off but music still on, bobbing my head to the rhythm of Sam Cooke's 'Little Red Rooster'. Suddenly everything turned into an episode of Criminal Minds. There was a sudden rap on the window and a cloaked figure appeared (I later saw it was just a hoodie) loudly saying: 'You waiting for something??'. I was half expecting him to put a gun to the window, force me out of the car and take me to the second location, but he walked away in a huff instead. I then had to sit in the car an extra solid 15 minutes to make sure he was gone before I felt I could leave my happy place, get out of the car, and make a run for it up to the house. I tend to watch tv shows like CSI, Criminal Minds, and Dexter while I crochet. I refer to it as 'murder crochet' and feel cool about sounding like I'm doing something potentially life-threatening... but perhaps I should tone it down a notch.
So what do you think? Is this payback for that time I took an egg off the SRV grocery cart that delivered to the less-mobile, and shoved it through someone's mailbox? Or perhaps for the time my little friend (accomplice?) and I scammed the entire neighbourhood by pretending we were collecting money for the starving children of the Congo as a school project?
Nah, they have it in for me. I can feel it. If you don't hear from me within 3 days, send a search party. (Have them bring chocolate.)
I know you're out there, watching, waiting.
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