The house just two doors up from ours is being sold, and naturally all of us who've lived here longer than a couple of years are terrified that it's going to be gutted and we'll have to endure another year of construction. Our collective nerves are still frayed from the psychopathic little contractor who gutted and rebuilt the bungalow a bit further up on the block.
My next door neighbor B. and I were gossiping about the sale the other day, sharing stories of potential buyers we'd met. Just that day B. had met the couple who are the fall-back buyers, who came by to yearn at the almost-theirs house. "It's a lesbian couple; they'll get it if the sale falls through," he said.
"That's nice. Maybe they like cats," I said, thinking of the various crazy cat-lady couples I've met (it's a very special thing, when two crazy cat ladies fall in love). I live in fear that a cat-hater will move into our block and get annoyed that two of my cats roam through everyone's yards.
B. made a face. "Lesbians can be awfully noisy."
He burst out laughing. He's a gay man, living with his long-term love.
I pressed the point. "Homophobia, right here in the Castro! I should report you."
Through his fit of laughter, B. asked, "Report me? To whom?"
"GLAAD." I walked up my stairs and turned back. "The HRC. I don't know. I'll find someone to report you to." I could still hear his laughter as I let myself in my front door.
How are lesbians noisy? Powertools? Moving vans?
I dunno, he might have a point. Indigo Girls blaring all night, pot lucks that get out of hand, soft ball parties. SOFT BALL! Perhaps he should sashay right over there and lay down the law if they move in. "OK GURLS, HERE'S THE 411. GAGA ONLY AFTER 9PM!"
Meanwhile you can hover in the background, proudly showcasing your Birkenstocks and tut-tutting at his display. After all, as a vegan you're already one step closer to being their BBFF (Block Best Friend Forever).
Its strange that two crazy cat ladies fall in love!! Never heard before.
I was thinking more of noisy sex, Ellen, but maybe that's because the last time I wore my Elvis Herselvis t-shirt, someone told me all about how she could never get any sleep the whole time her roommate was dating Elvis Herselvis due to all the earsplitting sex.
Hugh, I am deeply offended that you would think I would own a pair of Birkenstocks. I'm huffing over here like a wounded society matron.
well you don't own a pair of Birkenstocks NOW. but once you start paling around with the Glamorous Neighborhood Lesbians, you'll certainly want to acquire a pair.
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