If you are vehemently opposed to idle gossip, look away or click the X or whatever, ’cause I’m about to gossip about my weird-ass neighbor. This isn’t even really a post, it’s just me getting shit off my chest so I don’t end up with PTSD.
The first time I saw my neighbor, I wondered if I had inadvertently stumbled into an alternate universe – the kind of universe where men walk chubby dogs in strollers and plant plastic flowers in their flowerbeds instead of real ones. I was also open to the possibility that I might be dreaming. Either way, nothing about this man pointed to the reality to which I have become accustomed.
He’s not my next door neighbor, THANK GOD, but he lives like three houses down. The point is, he’s within the community gates, and as such, my children and I are obliged to share the neighborhood pool with him.
He is here at the pool today, like every day, obscenely sunning himself, his leathery body cascading over the sides of a plastic lounge chair like a suitcase in a Dalí painting. His swim-shorts are jammed into his thigh-groin crack in what I assume is an effort to avoid farmer tan.
On a second chair beside him, there is a tiny radio blasting 70’s music. But not anything good, like Queen, Bob Marley or AC/DC… no, this music is the kind of obscure, willowy moaning that makes me feel like I ought to dig up my college phonebook and dial my old friend Bones to see if he still deals acid, or at least knows anybody who does.
Where did this guy even find this CD? Shouldn’t music like this only be available on vinyl?
I ignore him though, or try to. After all, he has as much right to be at the pool as my children and I do. Maybe I’m being mean. Maybe I should be more friendly. But… I can’t. I just can’t be okay with someone who walks a perfectly healthy dog in a stroller. I know it can walk on the sidewalk like a regular dog because I’ve seen it, and holy hell is it fat, let the poor thing walk! And how do you act neighborly to a guy who has his swim trunks jammed into his groin? You don’t, right?
Maybe I could have let his weirdness slide and chalked it up to the diversity of humankind. I’ve been making so much progress in my effort to accept different lifestyles and ways of thinking. I might have been able to do it, too, if it weren’t for what happens next:
Mari says, “Mommy! Swing me in circles!” So I slide my hands under Mari’s armpits, getting ready to drag her through the water in a wet arc, thinking how oddly fitting the movement is with this terrible droning music. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion anyway. I begin to move my body in a circle, and as I do, I am facing suitcase-man for a brief moment. In this moment – and don’t get any ideas, he’s a weirdo, but I don’t think he’s a pervert, it really was just a coincidence – but anyway, in this exact moment, suitcase-man rises from his seat and pulls out his swim trunks from that stuffed-up place in his groin.
And BOOM there are his balls.
F#$@%^$%CK. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
(We’re still in slow motion. Am I having an acid flashback right now???)
I continue to twirl Mari, averting my eyes faster than anyone in the history of earth has ever averted eyes before. But I have seen what cannot be unseen, I will soon be bleaching my eyes, I will probably need counseling for this, and… any other cliché you can think of that indicates severe trauma.
I finish my twirl and Marisol is giggling with the innocent glee one would expect of a four-year-old, while I am trying not to cry. Why me? Why do all The Things happen to me?
Or does this crazy shit happen to you too? Have you ever had a man made of leather flash you his nads? Does your neighbor walk his dog in a stroller? Or perhaps you have a neighbor that is even weirder and ballsier (ewww) than mine?
Do tell. If I get some good neighbor stories, I’ll be featuring them on the AP Facebook page.
And don’t forget to subscribe to AP!
27 Comments
Omg I have to learn not to read you at work! Awesome post!
Just tell your coworkers about me. Get everyone on the same page. 😉
Oh god. Totally not cool. Sorry about your eyes. But I hope the bleach works. I may need some just for having read this.
The bleach stung a little, but it’s less painful that the image that was seared into my eyes, so, WINNING.
There’s a reason I don’t go swimming at the pools in my apartment complex. Okay, two. One, my neighbors are not exactly pleasing to the eye (and me too for that matter). And two, purple hair. Without a swim cap on I can’t get into a pool. Dagnabbit.
And seeing that old guys’ balls? Ew, ew, EWWW!
He’s not even really old, just… leathery. *grossed-out face*
I have also seen that which not be sen , only he wasn’t a leathery older man . He was a VERY , and I mean VERY pale almost PINK man sitting on his motorcycle with what I can only describe as childrens running shorts from the 70’s and both of his PINK very PINK balls hanging out sunning themselves ..yes it still haunts me . I was 8 at the time!!!!!!
Ew.
I do not recall ever having this excruciating privilege. I had a varied childhood, but other than finding the lady sleeping in our bathtub when I was small after one of my parent’s parties…I’ve most likely blocked everything into a dark spot. My physical therapist neighbor, however, told me of one of her colleagues (a nurse) who was flashed in London. She had gotten on the bus, late after work. It was empty except for one old man. One the rig was moving, he promptly exposed himself to her (pervert!). She looked at him, rolled her eyes, and told him, “Just put it away! Do you know how many of those I’ve had to wash today?”
I would love to be so thick-skinned! lol
totally, that is why I love that story so much! And when told in an English accent, it is priceless.
I was in the Dominican Republic a few years ago, having lunch with my partner at a little dive bar in Boca Chica. As we sat, quietly chatting while waiting for our food, two men sat down at the table a few feet away from us. I briefly met eyes with the guy facing me, but didn’t notice the other man. At one point, I leaned down to adjust my knee brace, and as I did so, my eyes locked with the second man’s shorts. They were very short, like the old time basketball shorts, loose, and he had NOTHING under them. I recoiled as fast as humanly possible, and my partner raised his eyebrows in confusion. I did the side glance and he almost choked on his soda laughing.
No amount of brain bleach will ever erase that from my memory.
I am so sorry for the trauma you have suffered.
I once had a man expose himself to me at a bus stop very much on purpose, unlike your leathery friend. I told him to fuck off and he walked away. Like you said, very hard to unsee such a sight……
Your neighbor sounds like quite a character and I think that you showed a great amount of retraint by not posting pictures – both tanning and dog “walking”. You deserve a drink; maybe two or three to wash away that sight 😉
I totally thought about slyly taking a picture. But even I have limits.
Nothing like what you went through, but we have next door neighbors, who keep to themselves so much, that all we know is they have a son named Christopher. We know this, because every Saturday, an older woman visits, we assume is the grandma, and repeats, over and over again “Chriiiii-sto-pherrr, Chriiiii-sto-pherrr!”
That’s actually pretty funny. It’s like she’s a bird.
LOL … you will be safe here 🙂
I thought “He is here at the pool today, like every day, obscenely sunning himself, his leathery body cascading over the sides of a plastic lounge chair like a suitcase in a Dalí painting” was my favorite sentence ever, until I got to “And BOOM there are his balls.”
My old man neighbor across the street sits in his truck in the driveway and listens to talk radio at top volume all day, every day. I’m not sure if he lacks an indoor radio, or if he just hates his wife.
“his leathery body cascading over the sides of a plastic lounge chair like a suitcase in a Dalí painting. ”
Damn it!! Why am I already married with beef cake like this out there? WHY!!!
I was thinking EXACTLY the same thing. haha (EWWWW)
BALLS. I love to say the word. I don’t love looking at them.
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.
Bwhahahha! Just be glad it was YOU seeing them and not your daughter! And seriously…what’s up with the fat dog in a stroller? Some people take their dogs WAAAAAY too seriously! (ducks to avoid the crazy animal lovers throwing stuff!)
Hahaha! That ( or should I say those) will be forever burned into your memory I’m afraid!
Probably my favorite Halloween costume was the guy is super short cut-off jean shorts with the rest of the 70’s outfit to match. Only, when he put his foot on the coffee table while standing his “balls” were dangling for all to see! Super gross at first and then absolutely hilarious!
I too have seen that which cannot be unseen….running errands with my husband recently I stayed in the car while he ran into the store real quick. An orange Smart car pulls in next to me, driven by a rather, ahem..large man. As he began hoisting himself out I realized he was wearing VERY short cutoff sweatpants (ew) that seemed to have gotten bunched up in the crotch area. He adjusted too far to one side and well…his junkedy-junk flopped out and made an appearance that I still cannot remove from my brain. I think maybe I’ll try the bleach 🙂