An open letter to my next-door neighbor.

The BBQ Pit
1

Dear next door neighbor-

I don’t know your name. In fact, I don’t know much about you at all - you and your wife seem to be a rather shy, withdrawn couple. I’ve only spoken to you twice since you moved into the other half of our duplex a few months ago. In fact, I rarely see you at all except when I catch a glimpse of you pulling into your garage, in your car with the windows so heavily tinted it’s tough to even see how many people are inside.

But don’t get me wrong, I’m not dismayed by your obvious desire for privacy and seclusion at all…to each his own, neighbor. You and your wife are as quiet as church mice over there, so I’ll take you over the former tenants any day of the week. Besides, I’m sure that having recently arrived here from another country, our town and its people and customs are still be a bit foreign and intimidating, and that might make you a bit shy.

But here’s one custom that you need to learn, and you need to learn it fast: when other people - be they salesmen, delivery boys, mailmen, or whoever - leave crap outside for you, YOU PICK IT UP.

I’ve smiled to myself when I see packages that UPS left four days ago still sitting on your front step (you seem to exit the house only via the garage, in your car, so I can see how you might miss them). I’ve ignored the free garbage bags the city gives out that sat on your walkway for three weeks. I’ve gritted my teeth and held my tongue as you failed to pick up at all the free weekly newspapers that get thrown on your driveway, instead letting them decompose into piles of rain-soaked mush, before they finally dry up and the wind carries their pulpy chunks onto our driveway and yard. But it’s finally gotten to be too much.

You see, I’m not sure whether you did this yourself, or whether someone else on the block signed you up as a prank, but about a two weeks ago you apparently got a subscription to the local paper.

The only trouble is, you have yet to pick it up. Even once.

I took a quick tally today; there are currently no fewer than eleven newspapers sitting on and around your driveway, waiting forlornly in their neon yellow bags for you to come by and hold them, love them, read them. But it ain’t happened yet. And God alone knows when it’s going to.

I know you’re not on vacation, and I don’t think you’re stupid. So what in the HELL is your problem? Is the culture you come from not familiar with the concept of home delivery? Do you not realize what an eyesore it is to have a dozen brightly-bagged newspapers scattered around in front of your home? Do you not care that it makes your half look like a piece of crap? As I’m sure you’ve noticed, this isn’t some trailer-park neighborhood; the landlords around here take care of their properties, and in turn the residents take care of their surroundings too.

You’re in Rome now, so start acting like the rest of us Romans, jackass.

[sub]this is my first pit thread ever…please be gentle.[/sub]

2

No Way !!

When I moved into my present apartment the local paper started delivering two weeks worth of free papers. I didn’t ask for them, I didn’t want them and I damn sure didn’t pick them up; an act which they might have interpreted as showing an interest. I might offer you the same suggestion I offered my apartment manager: call the paper and ask them to come get their trash out of your yard.

On another note; your neighbors probably think that the papers are yours.

3

What ever happened to common neighborly actions. Can’t you take the papers to their door and introduce yourself. They may be shy and waiting for you to make the move. Don’t stew in silence, talk to them. Are you afraid they will expect your to always deliver their papers? and if so, how hard would it be for you to do so. This action could open up a sort of neightborhood watch between the two of you.

4

Oh, it’s not for lacking of trying that they’re virtual strangers. When they first moved in, the husband came over to use our phone a couple times before theirs was installed…my attempts at small talk were met with stony silence, and my occasional waves as he passes by in his car are met with equally stony stares.

As for the wife, well, they apparently come from a culture with very strict observation of Islamic law. I’ve seen her - once - completely covered in a chador. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t set foot outside the house practically at all.

5

Sorry, I see that you tried, continue with the rant.

6

I would go all around the yard and driveway and up to their door that they never use and I’d pick up everything I could find that came to them whether is was by USPS, UPS, paper boy or whatever. I would pile it all up in a nice big stack in front of his garage door so he would have to see it or run over it.

Or some other thing that would get their attention. Whatever would work.

Why do you suppose they never come out and have extra tinted windows in the car so you can’t see them? Are they trying to hide something?

7

Do you know any ‘bikers’ that could come by and ‘sugest’ that they pick up their stuff? he he he

3½¢ He could no longer rend his foes limb from limb. He could not eat solid food

8

Erhm, have you seen Arlington Road? Whatever you do, don’t let your kid go to their summer camp.