Last week I wrote about my perceptions about the woman next door. Here’s what the woman next door might assume about me:
The man next door lugs recyclables to the curb every Wednesday. It is a noisy wake up call. How can one couple consume two bags full of glass recyclables?
I didn’t have to wait long for an answer. “Is this vodka bottle empty?” he asked holding a gallon glass jug for further scrutiny. “Are you nuts”, the woman retorted. “What idiot would put a bottle of potato vodka in the trash if it contained even a smidgen of vodka?”
Anyone who gets that bent out of shape over the remaining residue in a vodka bottle has issues. Or, she could be one of those nuts who refuses to purchase anything in plastic containers.
The woman appears every morning to add to the recycle bin. Her early morning appearance suggests a night of debauchery. Her hair stands in all directions and her attire is disgraceful. She probably has those big sunglasses on for a reason. I’m surprised the poor thing can make it to the recycle bin.
Aside from her possible addiction issues, the woman is sneaky, but I’m onto her. HOA’s forbid outdoor clothes lines in our neighborhood. She installed hers slightly lower than her privacy fence. Every week her laundered bath towels flap in the breeze to air dry. She is probably too cheap to put them in the dryer. I’ll bet she forces that poor man to use coarse bath towels so she can buy vodka.
I suppose there is an outside chance she could be a tree hugger. Based on her early morning presentation, I’m going with lush.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.