Neighbors

Neighbors

Howdy neighbor,

Winter is almost here and I thought maybe you could return the snow blower you borrowed last year. I’m sorry I had to send you an email but I’ve been to your house twice now and you don’t seem to answer the door. Yesterday, I could clearly see through your window that you were sitting in your living room, wearing a Redskins jersey, and watching the game. Did you grow that mustache as a disguise?

Ha, Ha. Just kidding.

But seriously, I need that snow blower. Give me a call.

Respectfully,

Warren Avery

_________________________________________________________ 

Dear Mr. Avery,

Howdy?

Really? Who are you Mr. Rogers?

First, not only did I not borrow your snow blower, I’m not even sure where you live. Second, had you taken the time to get to know me, you’d know that I am a lifelong fan of the Dallas Cowboys and wouldn’t be caught dead in a Redskins jersey. That was my wife, June, you saw while peeping through our window. She was thrilled to hear that you pointed out the slight growth of hair above her lip and in turn has asked me to tell you that both of your kids look a lot like the mailman.

Best,

Ted.

_________________________________________________________ 

Dear Ted,

I must say that “howdy” seemed a lot friendlier than “dear” but oh, whatever, as my daughter says. The snow blower in question is the big black one you fawned over last winter. Perhaps you were overmedicated (as you call it), again, and forgot you borrowed it? Kind of like when you borrowed my socket wrenches and I never saw them again? As for my kids, far be it from me to disparage your Redskin loving wife’s keen powers of observation, but the reason they look like the mailman just might be because, I AM THE FUCKING MAILMAN! Which reminds me, is there a reason you get mail for the Justin Bieber fan club?

Now, according to that idiot weatherman on channel three, we might have snow later in the week so I’d really like to clear this up before then.

With less respect,

Warren Avery

_________________________________________________________ 

Warren,

Such language! Should I be worried that you, a mailman, might go postal?Yes it’s true; I do get Justin Bieber fan club mail. And then I immediately run it over to my niece who is in intensive care after being struck by of all things, a mail truck. Also, maybe if you weren’t so busy judging the mail, you would have noticed that I am, as you might say, the FUCKING WEATHERMAN on channel three. And the “idiot” stands by his prediction.Looks like about 6” of snow coming. Good luck with that driveway.

Worst,

Ted

P.S.

Socket wrenches?

I’ve never used one in my life. Are you sure you know what they are?

_________________________________________________________ 

Ted,

I thought that vacant look on the channel three guy looked familiar. It’s really a shame about your hairline. Have you considered plugs? Also, I’m worried that you’re exhibiting signs of early Alzheimer’s. Maybe you should see a doctor? I’m now beginning to think I might have to get the police involved. How about if you leave the snow blower outside and I’ll pick it up with no questions asked. Good for you?

Now with less than zero respect,

Warren

_________________________________________________________ 

Warren,

Thank you ever so much for the snarky remark about my hairline. Rather than retaliate with a crack about those spindly legs I saw in those postman shorts, I’ll take the high road. There’s a road on which I’ll never have to worry about meeting you as evidenced by your Alzheimer’s dig when you know dementia runs in my family. As for the cops, I wondered when you’d play that card. After last summer, when you had the SWAT team deployed, I’m surprised you didn’t start with a 911 call. By the way, it turns out my earlier prediction of 6” of snow was off. Now it looks like a foot! Wish I had an extra shovel to loan you.

Hating you more every day.

Ted

_________________________________________________________ 

Ted,

I’d hardly call one squad car a SWAT team but you left me no choice after firing bottle rockets through my window. Our kitchen still smells like smoke by the way. You certainly lucked out when the cop turned out to be your cousin. Because you seem to have a lot of cousins (could inbreeding be the cause of the dementia?), I’ve decided not to call the police. Instead, I plan to enlist the help of some other neighbors and go Oceans Eleven on your ass.

Be advised.

Warren Ocean

_________________________________________________________ 

Dear Mr. Ocean,

Hah, that’s a laugh. Good luck finding 10 neighbors that even like you. Have you forgotten who got kicked out of the neighborhood watch group?

Plotting to kill you,

Ted

_________________________________________________________ 

Ted,

As you know, the neighborhood watch thing was an honest mistake. How was I to know that old Mrs. Tomkins is still sexually active.

My advice to you, sleep with one eye open.

Warren

_________________________________________________________ 

Warren,

Is that a threat? Have you also seen the mail I get from the NRA?

Bring it on mail boy.

Ted.

_________________________________________________________ 

Dear Ted,

I just happened upon this email chain in Warren’s computer. I had no idea things had gotten this out of hand. I have to apologize for my husband’s actions. I just finished explaining to him that I sold the blower on Ebay to help pay some legal bills (you remember the thing with Mrs. Tomkins). So now he’s mad at me instead of you.

Sincerely,

Dolores Avery

P.S.

Can you ask June to return the Panini maker she borrowed?

_________________________________________________________ 

Dear Dolores,

I know you sold the snow blower. I bought it.

Ted.

P.S.

I asked June about the Panini maker. I wrote her words down word for word. She said and I am definitely quoting here:

   “Eat shit and die.”

Have a nice day, neighbor.

Don't Call Us (No, really don't)

Don't Call Us (No, really don't)

How We Met

How We Met