Neighbors

The last time I can remember being friends with my neighbor was back in the fifth grade. Her name was Claudine and she was a year older than me. She and I taped Fresh Prince of Bel-air when it first came out just so we could write down and memorize all of the lyrics from the opening credits. Her mom made the BEST spaghetti and when we became GOOD friends she introduced me to her grandma, who was a pile of ashes that sat in an urn on the mantle.


I haven't befriended another neighbor since. There really isn't a need or chance too since I rarely see any neighbors. Until I moved to Oakland.

This is the view from our diningroom.

"Hello there! My name is Joanne. I didn't mean to stare! It's just we are so damn close, I can't look out the window without seeming like a creep. I wasn't watching you wash your dishes compulsively. I swear I'm not judging you. But maybe you should get a girlfriend or something? Or you can come by and wash my dishes. ohhh, no I didn't mean that in the dirty way. Maybe you're gay. Okay have a good one!"

I doubt I'll actually befriend any of them but chances are very high that I will make a few enemies.