The Undesirables & the Golden Girls Brigade

Since moving to suburbia my and hubby’s lives have changed quite a bit. Having lived in a relatively small apartment for the last nine years, the space and privacy of our new house have been a welcoming and positive adjustment. Yes, we have become proud Stepford Fags and it is quite agreeable. However, not everything has been sunshine and roses, afternoon tea- and raunchy pool parties. You see we have some peculiar neighbours for which good fences does not necessarily make for good neighbours. On the one side we have the Undesirables and on the other side the Golden Girls Brigade, both contributing to a perfect recipe for great entertainment and frustration.

When we moved into our neighbourhood we caused quite a buzz on our street. Finally the queers were moving in! Some curious neighbours came and introduced themselves and one particularly inquisitive woman actually asked for a tour of our house to which I courteously obliged as I didn’t want to be rude. She inspected our furniture, queer art and decoration choices as if she was making mental notes. Later, I would learn that this woman was requested by the other housewives to come and “check us out”. I was thoroughly interrogated by her and everything was reported back to the ladies of the neighbourhood during their weekly Thursday afternoon tea.
You see in our neighbourhood we have a very sophisticated network of social gossip and news being collected and disseminated. Fortunately for me Gossip Headquarters is right next door with the weekly briefings being done on the patio right by my study’s window and I can overhear everything. Thursdays at around half past four the ladies will get together and catch up on the week’s activities. First their favourite soap operas and television shows are debated with Oprah being a permanent fixture. Then they’ll get stuck in with all the truly important subjects (what have been happening in our street) often times expanding as far as 6 blocks away. Nothing is left out and everything from their husbands, children, grandchildren, the neighbours, neighbourhood tramps (apparently we have quite a few) and us the queers are discussed. The gossip is downright fantastic!
The Golden Girls Brigade is unapologetic, frank and sometimes slightly crude with their subjective observations and revelations – even I sometimes blush and I am not even part of their conversation. At least they think hubby and I are fine young men with their only concern being that they never hear us fight. One lady actually asked curiously “Is that normal for gays not to fight? And I heard they are married! That’s just crazy all married couple have fights now and again!!” They are also quite intrigued by this beautiful girl that visits us for a couple of hours some Saturdays and baffled that she always arrives in a different sports car. “I wonder what she does there and what is up with her cars?” one lady asked. “You don’t suppose they are doing ungodly things over there?” the other responded, and I just giggled silently. Hubby once told me, while I was updating him on all the gossip, that I should one day peak over the wall and ask to join them. I am sure they would welcome me with open arms!
Like family you unfortunately can’t choose your neighbours. Apart from the Golden Girls Brigade, whom I quite enjoy, we also have the Undesirables. On the other side of our house we have a young unhappily married couple. They are constantly fighting with prime time fighting occurring between five and six o’clock in the mornings. I never can quite catch the gist of their fights, not that I particularly care, but they are best heard from our on-suite bathroom and/or the kitchen. They also have a small farm of pavement special mutts that regularly add to the noise pollution. If the couple aren’t fighting their dogs are barking!
Apart from being unhappy they also don’t take pride in their property, probably because they are renting it. Their backyard is permanently littered with dog poo that's rarely cleaned up -very unhygienic! Their property always looks neglected as do they and their dogs. The woman’s hair is never done and her plastered on makeup looks like her face will crack and crumble if she smiles, alas she never does. I have seen her only twice and neither of those times did she even attempt a cordial hallo, so I decided to ignore them should I see them.
Once I had to phone the police due to one of their fights sounding like it was spiralling out of control. It was a Friday evening and while watching television ghastly screams emanating from next door gave me a fright. I first thought they were being attacked, but as I made my way to the kitchen I could tell that it was the two of them going at it again. The police later showed up and the ruckus stopped. Later, I was told that the man said the wife fell off a chair and that was why she was crying – I don’t believe that for a second as I know what I heard! Presently we are not on speaking terms with the undesirables and all communications to and from them are done through our Italian intermediary (the owner of that property). The Italian is quite an eccentric man and his flamboyance can sometimes be quite draining. He too has grown tired of the undesirables’ behaviour and plans on evicting them soon. In the mean time we will just have try and ignore their screaming and dogs barking until they move back to their side of the railway tracks.

Living in suburbia has really been fun thus far. The quality of our lives has improved tremendously and we love our new house. Every Thursday afternoon I make sure to leave work a couple of minutes early to catch up on my weekly gossip and every morning at 5am our living alarm clocks next door wakes me up with the sweats sounds of why some people should get divorced. Apart from the undesirables I would never want to move back into an apartment and would not trade our lovely home for anything else.

Till next time.

Sherry Vine - Gang Bang