I live in a historic neighborhood where most of the houses are over 100 years old, but interspersed are very modern looking new construction houses. One such house is painted black and white and is three stories. It's vibe is modern gothic mansion or church. The conspiracy is that the blinds are NEVER open. Cars come and go as normal, but their windows are NEVER uncovered. The neighborhood has decided that the residents are definitely vampires.
I learned recently that I was the subject of a neighborhood theory. Apparently people thought I grew weed inside because they saw the grow light for my lemon tree. Someone finally talked to my landlord about it.
Sorry I skipped over this last week. I just assumed it was me. Do you know the local busybody? Casually mention your love of monstera or whatever it is and that person can spread the news.
We are the neighbors our neighbors discuss and, perhaps, warn their children about. My husband and I live off of a ravine surrounded by woods. Gardening is difficult, but through obsessive work I’ve managed to create a little Eden in hard and clayey Illinois. I love my backyard garden but so do the gophers, rabbits, squirrels, and deer who view it as an All-You-Can-Eat buffet. The gophers and rabbits scatter at the sound of my voice, but the deer stand there and stare. “What’s your problem, lady?,” I know they are thinking. I call to my husband for help. Marty rushes out and begins barking like a dog. He starts with a growl and then crescendos to an ear-splitting roar. The deer run for their lives. The neighbors think we have a Cujo look-alike who barks rarely but very loudly. They never see us walking Cujo or playing with him in the front yard.
Friends ask why we don’t get a dog. I would love this very much, but my ex-football player husband is afraid of them. “We have to cross the street,” he says when he sees a leashed chihuahua coming our way. I think that’s what our neighbors say when they see Marty and me coming their way.
Hahaha! I love this. Well my very next door neighbors NEVER put their trash bin on the curb the night before like every one else. Instead one of them will stand next to it the morning of trash pickup and watch the worker empty it into the truck and he'll wheel it back in their garage and close the door.
My theory is they don't want neighbors possibly going through their trash, because they're hiding something. But what?
I'm obsessed with taking a peek into their close guarded gar-buh-ge🤣🤣🤣
That’s funny. My 93 yr old mom was fed up that there was no parking space in front of house for me when I stayed with her last week. So she put her trash can out all week to save me a spot. Sort of like the “dibs” practice in Chicago in winter. (Google it!) But then my brother told her that someone would call cops for a wellness check if she left it out all week. No win situation!
There's a house down the street from me with A LOT of kids. There are multiple cars parked around it. Sometimes, on nice evenings, you'll see them all go on family walks with the kids- which sounds lovely until you hear them all chanting Bible verses. I'm convinced it's a cult.
We may live in the same neighborhood lol. The family we live near has 9 kids, one of their license plates says so, and they don't go to school. Which is fine, I don't care what track folks take to educate their youths-- but I do wonder about their multiple goats and chickens and cats. Like how does bedtime work with all of that life on one property? I can't keep my one child , two cats (and zero livestock) quiet all night.
When we were growing up south side of Chicago there was a house on a big triple lot on a corner that an old lady lived in. Classic witch stories and eggings and TP treatment from kids at Halloween because we never saw her and the house and grounds went downhill over the years.
Fast forward forty years and I am living back in the neighborhood to keep an eye on my elderly parents and find out that the oldest single brother of a big neighborhood family now owns the house. They lived across the street and he’d been eyeing it for years. He scooped it up when the old lady died.
I start walking the dog and he and I strike up an acquaintance. He likes doing the outside work but lives in the basement because the upper two floors are gutted to framing and wiring. He has no car and day trades and heats the house with a wood stove in winter.
We “dated” for about six months, mostly summer when I could lounge in the yard with the dog and watch him do yard work and dream about what the house might look like totally remodeled inside. Then when winter came he told me he “prefers to be alone”. Now he is the neighborhood oddball old man the kids egg at Halloween. 🎃
I grew up in Cicero, but am very familiar with the South Side. The weird guy living in the basement was so common--every street had one--though mostly it was because the rent was so cheap.
I think everyone in Chicago knows an extended family situation where the basement was for the grown son who came home unexpectedly or the mother-in-law. Heck I even know of a married couple where he lived in the bungalow basement because he chain-smoked, drank a lot of beer, and watched sports all day. He was a great guy! A double Purple Heart!
In my case the guy, a blonde with the same birthday as mine, lived in the basement because the upstairs and second floor were gutted. There were no floors, just planks over beams, and no central heat. He had owned the house for twenty years by the time I started hanging around. He was just odd and cheap.
When I found out we had the same birthday just five years apart, I deluded myself into believing we were star-twins, literally. All my best male friends are oldest children and same star sign, as he was. But he was also odd like I am and like they are but in a male way, which is worse.
My next-door neighbors are an older woman and her chronically-ill, adult daughter. They moved in about the same time we did. Our realtor told us their house was called the “raccoon house” among fellow realtors for reasons I will leave to your imagination. Anyway, my neighbors moved in and I learned (through a conversation that in itself is a whole other story) about the daughter’s various ailments and that they had a doctor who paid them house visits for her care (which seemed odd to me, but what do I know?). I had seen the BMW come and park in front of their house a few times, and now knew that was supposed to be the doctor. Since then (3 years ago), I have watched this doctor come over multiple times a week (including weekends!), in various different outfits (professional, casual, pool-ready, etc.), and seen him bring in seemingly random and out of context items considering his supposed purpose there (dry-cleaning, groceries, even a pool inflatable!). (Important side note: they do have a pool.) I have also seen him pull up and the daughter get out of his car, so obviously he had given her a ride from somewhere. I can’t figure out what is going on over there but have settled on that he must be having a romantic relationship with at least one of them.
I just saw a production of Uncle Vanya and this feels very Vanya-coded -- the old-school practice of a country doctor who comes to visit rich people at their estates and becomes basically part of their household/dramas/romantic entanglements...
I have never spoken to “the doctor” but learned who he was from the supposed patient herself. So if that’s a lie, it’s a weird one. And just makes me even more suspicious of what is actually going on!
I lived in apartment building where, for a couple of years, there where two or three apples and oranges arranged in different ratios and configurations. I figured someone was having an affair and the arrangement of the fruit signaled availability
So, I’ve been keeping an eye on my neighbor across the street—the woman in her late 30s who always has that perfect parking spot. Every day, without fail, she comes home with a load of packages and boxes. At first, I thought it was just a lot of online shopping, but here's the weird thing: none of these boxes ever leave her place. No trash, no recycling—nothing. It’s like they vanish the moment they go inside.
I started to think maybe she’s a hoarder, but there’s no sign of that from what I can see. Then it hit me: what if these boxes aren’t just sitting in her apartment? What if she’s sending them somewhere else?
Imagine this: she’s got some kind of portal in there, a gateway to another reality. She could be offloading everything inside those boxes to another dimension—documents, supplies, who knows what. And the parking spot? It’s not just luck; it could be chosen for a reason, maybe even the ideal place for her to discreetly transport these things.
I’ve noticed she seems cautious, like she’s aware of her surroundings, making sure no one is watching too closely. I’m starting to think there’s a lot more going on in that apartment than anyone realizes.
I live in a place where a woman famously faked her own kidnapping, where a county supervisor spent taxpayer money on a “business trip” to ask Mr. My Pillow for advice and financial support to further the rogue board’s (successful 😑) attempt to ditch voting machines, and where people from all over the world come to spend thousands of dollars to attend a supernatural school of ministry to learn how to raise the dead and support conversion therapy. What I wouldn’t give for your odd little old neighbor and his car fetish!
Pretty sure we ARE those neighbors. My partner does a lot of the yard work but is inconsistent about it, so our yard is usually side-eye-able for one reason or another (never awful, just not consistently tidy).
I leave for days at a time, often arriving home in the middle of the night, and every once in awhile a white van with blacked out back windows comes to pick me up or drop me off at random times of day/night. (I’m a musician; it’s a band van; I’m also caring for my mother part-time in another state)
When I AM home I have entire conversations with my garden, sing and play songs to the turtles in the lake behind our house, and smoke a tobacco pipe in our backyard (which is connected to everyone else’s backyard).
I know this is going to sound really really strange, but I am 64 soon to be 65 in December. As I age I care less with what people think, so there is that great thing about aging. This is not a direct conspiracy theory per se, but it does involve theory and neighborhood, so I hope this will have some merit.
I regularly have a herd of about 8 deer who come by to visit. When I first moved to my house, 4 years ago, some of them would come and stare at me. I swear they had never seen a Black man before from the depth of their stares. See, I am an African American man and live in NH, a nearly all White state. I was a bit frightened, at first, by the depth of their stares.
Coming from Chicago, I learned to talk smack in order to survive the streets. Oh yeah I can cuss when I have too, but this skill was first honed in Bridgeport, CT when I was 15. Anyway, I told those deer, "Yes, I now own the house, and they are more than welcome here. I would not be feeding them but glad that they are around. Nice to meet you, now get!" They nodded, bowing their heads the way animals after greetings. And ever since then, I felt like I was accepted into their home.
I have other neighbors/guests, a fox, a gaggle of wild turkey, a bobcat, doves and other birds, chipmunks and squirrels. No bears as of yet, not counting me of course....LOL.
All of these creatures watch over me, and I watch over them. I live alone but never feel alone.
Across the street from us lives a man in his late 50s, along with his elderly mother. After we moved in, the first time I saw the inside of his garage, I was immediately fascinated. There was barely enough room for his car in the two-car garage beside piles of boxes and cans. The cans were soon explained: he and his mom go around and collect them from bins after everyone put them out for trash collection. Once a week, he loads up his car and cashes them in.
Then, I noticed that on Saturdays, a bunch of people would start showing up at his house, one at a time, and he'd give them food. For some reason, I connected the cans with the food, especially after he started giving us food because we'd set aside our cans for him. Turns out, he's a distributor for a food bank - he goes and picks up a bulk amount and then bags it up for people to come pick up; if there's extra, he'll give us a random assortment of produce and packaged items from Trader Joe's, all about to expire. He's very nice, talks to my husband about our Chevy Astro we've converted for camping road trips, and in return my husband asks exactly zero questions to satiate my curiosity.
Every few days, his brother (I'm guessing) drives over and walks their mother around the block.
If I can't sleep and come out into the living room in the middle of the night, I see light from his computer screen, which faces out his front window, no matter what the hour. I want to know what he's doing; collecting cans alone cannot cover cost-of-living; he doesn't otherwise leave the house to go to work. I've now built it up so much in my mind that I feel awkward asking him!
The husband asking no follow up questions is so funny. My dad is the same way. My stepmom and i want to ask "And you didn't ask why? How? No follow up questions???"
In our first apartment, we lived across the road from a three story walk-up set of bachelor units. There was a lady who lived in one of them. She wasn't always home, but when she came home, it was always in a town car (this was not an especially nice part of town, so the car always stuck out) and she would get out in her professional outfit with her little matchy wheely suitcase and be home for a couple of days and then be gone again. We figured she was a flight attendant but she could have had many other occupations.
Your neighbour with his cars reminds me of one of our current neighbours who washes his truck every couple of days - no matter whether it seems to need it or not. He has many tools for this and uses them all every time and it seems to take him like, four or five hours every time. We've decided that this activity is his alone time. away from the wife and the kiddo, though he isn't going far.
Gotta wonder about men in burbs who are doing anything compulsively in their yard or garage. Sanctioned avoidance of family responsibilities under the guise of masculinity.
I've thought this about my next door neighbor who rides his mower for hours, sometimes extending into the night. These long mowing sessions seem to coincide with visits from his in-laws. I guess this is a thing.
Oh it’s a thing all right! So’s training for marathons/triathlons, or playing golf, sometimes. “See ya, honey, gotta go meet the guys…” when there are kids to care for at home.
I live in an apartment complex that’s pretty nice. So it’s not super expensive but definitely not cheap. For years, there was a woman who lived here who said she was a nun. In a two-bedroom apartment with a big balcony and a wooded view. She often took long trips, which I know because she asked a neighbor friend of mine to water her plants. She had a rather nondescript appearance. Not beautiful. Not skinny or fat. Kept to herself but was pleasant when I ran into her on the sidewalk. What nun lives alone in a two-bedroom apartment? CIA for sure.
Maybe she was like, the special ops kind of nun - sent to pilgrimage to locations that were in especial need of spiritual guidance and paid handsomely for it.
I live in an apartment building that’s part of a mixed retail-commercial-residential development in a mid-sized city. From my apartment I have a view into the corner apartment of the building across the street. No one appears to live in this apartment, but it is furnished and people come and go throughout the day, although they’re always all gone before nighttime (no one stays there overnight).
Every couple of months they completely rearrange the furniture, including a heavy brocaded sectional couch and a baby grand piano!
Last winter, they left one of the bedroom windows open for more than a month, even when temps were below 0.
Sometimes we see the people sitting on the couch, doing yoga in the living room, playing guitar in front of the bedroom window. Sometimes there’s also a cat. Again, none of these people are full-time living in this apartment, it’s like they’re putting on a play called “apartment life” or something.
Truly our only guess about any of this is that they’ve rented out this place so that they can film porn in there, and they just rearrange the furniture so often so that it looks like a different place in every video.
I live in a historic neighborhood where most of the houses are over 100 years old, but interspersed are very modern looking new construction houses. One such house is painted black and white and is three stories. It's vibe is modern gothic mansion or church. The conspiracy is that the blinds are NEVER open. Cars come and go as normal, but their windows are NEVER uncovered. The neighborhood has decided that the residents are definitely vampires.
Absolutely vampires!
I learned recently that I was the subject of a neighborhood theory. Apparently people thought I grew weed inside because they saw the grow light for my lemon tree. Someone finally talked to my landlord about it.
I worry about this! I have a couple of grow lights in my apartment for my houseplants, and I wonder what the neighbors think.
Sorry I skipped over this last week. I just assumed it was me. Do you know the local busybody? Casually mention your love of monstera or whatever it is and that person can spread the news.
This is amazing!! Did you go with it or did you dispel the notion?
My landlord told the neighborhood gossip the truth,but no idea if he told any other neighbors.
Well, if the gossip knows, it will spread. Now you'll have to share your lemons ;)
We are the neighbors our neighbors discuss and, perhaps, warn their children about. My husband and I live off of a ravine surrounded by woods. Gardening is difficult, but through obsessive work I’ve managed to create a little Eden in hard and clayey Illinois. I love my backyard garden but so do the gophers, rabbits, squirrels, and deer who view it as an All-You-Can-Eat buffet. The gophers and rabbits scatter at the sound of my voice, but the deer stand there and stare. “What’s your problem, lady?,” I know they are thinking. I call to my husband for help. Marty rushes out and begins barking like a dog. He starts with a growl and then crescendos to an ear-splitting roar. The deer run for their lives. The neighbors think we have a Cujo look-alike who barks rarely but very loudly. They never see us walking Cujo or playing with him in the front yard.
Friends ask why we don’t get a dog. I would love this very much, but my ex-football player husband is afraid of them. “We have to cross the street,” he says when he sees a leashed chihuahua coming our way. I think that’s what our neighbors say when they see Marty and me coming their way.
Ha! What a lovely piece of flash fiction!
Hahaha! I love this. Well my very next door neighbors NEVER put their trash bin on the curb the night before like every one else. Instead one of them will stand next to it the morning of trash pickup and watch the worker empty it into the truck and he'll wheel it back in their garage and close the door.
My theory is they don't want neighbors possibly going through their trash, because they're hiding something. But what?
I'm obsessed with taking a peek into their close guarded gar-buh-ge🤣🤣🤣
That’s funny. My 93 yr old mom was fed up that there was no parking space in front of house for me when I stayed with her last week. So she put her trash can out all week to save me a spot. Sort of like the “dibs” practice in Chicago in winter. (Google it!) But then my brother told her that someone would call cops for a wellness check if she left it out all week. No win situation!
Maybe they’re in the witness protection program
There's a house down the street from me with A LOT of kids. There are multiple cars parked around it. Sometimes, on nice evenings, you'll see them all go on family walks with the kids- which sounds lovely until you hear them all chanting Bible verses. I'm convinced it's a cult.
We may live in the same neighborhood lol. The family we live near has 9 kids, one of their license plates says so, and they don't go to school. Which is fine, I don't care what track folks take to educate their youths-- but I do wonder about their multiple goats and chickens and cats. Like how does bedtime work with all of that life on one property? I can't keep my one child , two cats (and zero livestock) quiet all night.
When we were growing up south side of Chicago there was a house on a big triple lot on a corner that an old lady lived in. Classic witch stories and eggings and TP treatment from kids at Halloween because we never saw her and the house and grounds went downhill over the years.
Fast forward forty years and I am living back in the neighborhood to keep an eye on my elderly parents and find out that the oldest single brother of a big neighborhood family now owns the house. They lived across the street and he’d been eyeing it for years. He scooped it up when the old lady died.
I start walking the dog and he and I strike up an acquaintance. He likes doing the outside work but lives in the basement because the upper two floors are gutted to framing and wiring. He has no car and day trades and heats the house with a wood stove in winter.
We “dated” for about six months, mostly summer when I could lounge in the yard with the dog and watch him do yard work and dream about what the house might look like totally remodeled inside. Then when winter came he told me he “prefers to be alone”. Now he is the neighborhood oddball old man the kids egg at Halloween. 🎃
I grew up in Cicero, but am very familiar with the South Side. The weird guy living in the basement was so common--every street had one--though mostly it was because the rent was so cheap.
I think everyone in Chicago knows an extended family situation where the basement was for the grown son who came home unexpectedly or the mother-in-law. Heck I even know of a married couple where he lived in the bungalow basement because he chain-smoked, drank a lot of beer, and watched sports all day. He was a great guy! A double Purple Heart!
In my case the guy, a blonde with the same birthday as mine, lived in the basement because the upstairs and second floor were gutted. There were no floors, just planks over beams, and no central heat. He had owned the house for twenty years by the time I started hanging around. He was just odd and cheap.
I love your last line here. "He was just odd and cheap." Says everything.
Now that's a story!
There’s more but maybe I should write it!
Definitely
He's WEIRD!
For a while it was a good weird.
There's your first sentence.
When I found out we had the same birthday just five years apart, I deluded myself into believing we were star-twins, literally. All my best male friends are oldest children and same star sign, as he was. But he was also odd like I am and like they are but in a male way, which is worse.
You really could do a lot with your story. I'm even more curious now.
My next-door neighbors are an older woman and her chronically-ill, adult daughter. They moved in about the same time we did. Our realtor told us their house was called the “raccoon house” among fellow realtors for reasons I will leave to your imagination. Anyway, my neighbors moved in and I learned (through a conversation that in itself is a whole other story) about the daughter’s various ailments and that they had a doctor who paid them house visits for her care (which seemed odd to me, but what do I know?). I had seen the BMW come and park in front of their house a few times, and now knew that was supposed to be the doctor. Since then (3 years ago), I have watched this doctor come over multiple times a week (including weekends!), in various different outfits (professional, casual, pool-ready, etc.), and seen him bring in seemingly random and out of context items considering his supposed purpose there (dry-cleaning, groceries, even a pool inflatable!). (Important side note: they do have a pool.) I have also seen him pull up and the daughter get out of his car, so obviously he had given her a ride from somewhere. I can’t figure out what is going on over there but have settled on that he must be having a romantic relationship with at least one of them.
I just saw a production of Uncle Vanya and this feels very Vanya-coded -- the old-school practice of a country doctor who comes to visit rich people at their estates and becomes basically part of their household/dramas/romantic entanglements...
This makes me more excited to see Uncle Vanya at Berkeley Repertory Theater this year!
Intriguing!!
Probably a caseworker of some sort
Is it definitely a doctor? Maybe your other neighbour got the wrong end of the stick 🤭🤭🤭
I have never spoken to “the doctor” but learned who he was from the supposed patient herself. So if that’s a lie, it’s a weird one. And just makes me even more suspicious of what is actually going on!
I lived in apartment building where, for a couple of years, there where two or three apples and oranges arranged in different ratios and configurations. I figured someone was having an affair and the arrangement of the fruit signaled availability
So, I’ve been keeping an eye on my neighbor across the street—the woman in her late 30s who always has that perfect parking spot. Every day, without fail, she comes home with a load of packages and boxes. At first, I thought it was just a lot of online shopping, but here's the weird thing: none of these boxes ever leave her place. No trash, no recycling—nothing. It’s like they vanish the moment they go inside.
I started to think maybe she’s a hoarder, but there’s no sign of that from what I can see. Then it hit me: what if these boxes aren’t just sitting in her apartment? What if she’s sending them somewhere else?
Imagine this: she’s got some kind of portal in there, a gateway to another reality. She could be offloading everything inside those boxes to another dimension—documents, supplies, who knows what. And the parking spot? It’s not just luck; it could be chosen for a reason, maybe even the ideal place for her to discreetly transport these things.
I’ve noticed she seems cautious, like she’s aware of her surroundings, making sure no one is watching too closely. I’m starting to think there’s a lot more going on in that apartment than anyone realizes.
Have you seen the movie Ocean's 8? Maybe she's a fence like Sarah Paulson!!
Ohh yes, I love that idea <3
I live in a place where a woman famously faked her own kidnapping, where a county supervisor spent taxpayer money on a “business trip” to ask Mr. My Pillow for advice and financial support to further the rogue board’s (successful 😑) attempt to ditch voting machines, and where people from all over the world come to spend thousands of dollars to attend a supernatural school of ministry to learn how to raise the dead and support conversion therapy. What I wouldn’t give for your odd little old neighbor and his car fetish!
Pretty sure we ARE those neighbors. My partner does a lot of the yard work but is inconsistent about it, so our yard is usually side-eye-able for one reason or another (never awful, just not consistently tidy).
I leave for days at a time, often arriving home in the middle of the night, and every once in awhile a white van with blacked out back windows comes to pick me up or drop me off at random times of day/night. (I’m a musician; it’s a band van; I’m also caring for my mother part-time in another state)
When I AM home I have entire conversations with my garden, sing and play songs to the turtles in the lake behind our house, and smoke a tobacco pipe in our backyard (which is connected to everyone else’s backyard).
So…yeah.
I know this is going to sound really really strange, but I am 64 soon to be 65 in December. As I age I care less with what people think, so there is that great thing about aging. This is not a direct conspiracy theory per se, but it does involve theory and neighborhood, so I hope this will have some merit.
I regularly have a herd of about 8 deer who come by to visit. When I first moved to my house, 4 years ago, some of them would come and stare at me. I swear they had never seen a Black man before from the depth of their stares. See, I am an African American man and live in NH, a nearly all White state. I was a bit frightened, at first, by the depth of their stares.
Coming from Chicago, I learned to talk smack in order to survive the streets. Oh yeah I can cuss when I have too, but this skill was first honed in Bridgeport, CT when I was 15. Anyway, I told those deer, "Yes, I now own the house, and they are more than welcome here. I would not be feeding them but glad that they are around. Nice to meet you, now get!" They nodded, bowing their heads the way animals after greetings. And ever since then, I felt like I was accepted into their home.
I have other neighbors/guests, a fox, a gaggle of wild turkey, a bobcat, doves and other birds, chipmunks and squirrels. No bears as of yet, not counting me of course....LOL.
All of these creatures watch over me, and I watch over them. I live alone but never feel alone.
Across the street from us lives a man in his late 50s, along with his elderly mother. After we moved in, the first time I saw the inside of his garage, I was immediately fascinated. There was barely enough room for his car in the two-car garage beside piles of boxes and cans. The cans were soon explained: he and his mom go around and collect them from bins after everyone put them out for trash collection. Once a week, he loads up his car and cashes them in.
Then, I noticed that on Saturdays, a bunch of people would start showing up at his house, one at a time, and he'd give them food. For some reason, I connected the cans with the food, especially after he started giving us food because we'd set aside our cans for him. Turns out, he's a distributor for a food bank - he goes and picks up a bulk amount and then bags it up for people to come pick up; if there's extra, he'll give us a random assortment of produce and packaged items from Trader Joe's, all about to expire. He's very nice, talks to my husband about our Chevy Astro we've converted for camping road trips, and in return my husband asks exactly zero questions to satiate my curiosity.
Every few days, his brother (I'm guessing) drives over and walks their mother around the block.
If I can't sleep and come out into the living room in the middle of the night, I see light from his computer screen, which faces out his front window, no matter what the hour. I want to know what he's doing; collecting cans alone cannot cover cost-of-living; he doesn't otherwise leave the house to go to work. I've now built it up so much in my mind that I feel awkward asking him!
Could be on disability?
The husband asking no follow up questions is so funny. My dad is the same way. My stepmom and i want to ask "And you didn't ask why? How? No follow up questions???"
In our first apartment, we lived across the road from a three story walk-up set of bachelor units. There was a lady who lived in one of them. She wasn't always home, but when she came home, it was always in a town car (this was not an especially nice part of town, so the car always stuck out) and she would get out in her professional outfit with her little matchy wheely suitcase and be home for a couple of days and then be gone again. We figured she was a flight attendant but she could have had many other occupations.
Your neighbour with his cars reminds me of one of our current neighbours who washes his truck every couple of days - no matter whether it seems to need it or not. He has many tools for this and uses them all every time and it seems to take him like, four or five hours every time. We've decided that this activity is his alone time. away from the wife and the kiddo, though he isn't going far.
Gotta wonder about men in burbs who are doing anything compulsively in their yard or garage. Sanctioned avoidance of family responsibilities under the guise of masculinity.
I've thought this about my next door neighbor who rides his mower for hours, sometimes extending into the night. These long mowing sessions seem to coincide with visits from his in-laws. I guess this is a thing.
Oh it’s a thing all right! So’s training for marathons/triathlons, or playing golf, sometimes. “See ya, honey, gotta go meet the guys…” when there are kids to care for at home.
I live in an apartment complex that’s pretty nice. So it’s not super expensive but definitely not cheap. For years, there was a woman who lived here who said she was a nun. In a two-bedroom apartment with a big balcony and a wooded view. She often took long trips, which I know because she asked a neighbor friend of mine to water her plants. She had a rather nondescript appearance. Not beautiful. Not skinny or fat. Kept to herself but was pleasant when I ran into her on the sidewalk. What nun lives alone in a two-bedroom apartment? CIA for sure.
Maybe she was like, the special ops kind of nun - sent to pilgrimage to locations that were in especial need of spiritual guidance and paid handsomely for it.
Totally possible. But isn’t it more fun to think of her as a spy? The Spying Nun. 😀
I live in an apartment building that’s part of a mixed retail-commercial-residential development in a mid-sized city. From my apartment I have a view into the corner apartment of the building across the street. No one appears to live in this apartment, but it is furnished and people come and go throughout the day, although they’re always all gone before nighttime (no one stays there overnight).
Every couple of months they completely rearrange the furniture, including a heavy brocaded sectional couch and a baby grand piano!
Last winter, they left one of the bedroom windows open for more than a month, even when temps were below 0.
Sometimes we see the people sitting on the couch, doing yoga in the living room, playing guitar in front of the bedroom window. Sometimes there’s also a cat. Again, none of these people are full-time living in this apartment, it’s like they’re putting on a play called “apartment life” or something.
Truly our only guess about any of this is that they’ve rented out this place so that they can film porn in there, and they just rearrange the furniture so often so that it looks like a different place in every video.