I noticed something was up when tree trimmers arrived several weeks ago to prune and shape the trees at the rental house next door, a first since I moved in thirteen months ago. The neighbor’s trees were overgrown even then.
Neighborhood scuttlebutt is the house is owned by a slumlord who promises yard maintenance as part of the rental agreement but never provides it.
Some days later, I drove by and saw a truck parked on the lawn surrounded by household goods. Moving out? New neighbors moving in? Did I stop to inquire? No, because I am a bad neighbor.
Last Sunday, I was lying around in my pajamas at 2:00 PM eating bon-bons doing household chores when the doorbell rang. I have already established that I rarely answer the door but this time it was a small shirtless boy, brown as a berry and looking quite anxious.
His ball was in my back yard. I retrieved it and tossed it over the fence to boy #2, whose face floated above the top of my fence while he and boy #1 flung Spanish at each other like feces in a monkey cage.
(Oh gross. Perhaps I should not try to do similes.)
I had only ever seen teens over there before so my brilliantly deductive mind concluded I must have new neighbors. This was proven beyond a doubt Saturday night when they had their housewarming party.
Or Quinceanera.
Or perhaps a Rave.
All I know is there was much laughter and talking and clinking of glasses and music. Loud Mexican music.
I decided it was fine because, after all, it was Saturday night and I would not want my neighbors to harsh all over me if I was having a party on a Saturday night and it got a little loud. There was a point where they turned the music up EVEN LOUDER but I decided to give them until midnight before letting myself get annoyed. They shortly turned it back down to merely LOUD and, magically, at 11:58 PM, all went quiet.
I thought about baking them something to welcome them to the neighborhood but then they had a barbeque Sunday afternoon, consisting of more loud Mexican music combined with video game noises (from the game, not the people playing it) wafting from the open back door. Quite an annoying combination on what would otherwise be a lovely day for lounging in my own backyard.
My neighbor across the street then decided to blast his music, either because he was working in his garage or to prove a point. I am not sure which. Led Zeppelin does not go well with Tejano.
I hope this weekend is not a taste of what is to come. I heard mention of a cake so maybe it was someone's birthday next door.
Please, god, let it have been someone's birthday.
