I’m not one to make excuses for a lapse in writing. But this time, the excuse is too good not to tell you. Dennis and I were prevented from posting because we were recruited to assist in top secret government missions.
Not true. We just slacked off. So. So as to not disappoint in this, our first post of the new year in our international adventure, I would like to tell you about….
Our naked neighbors.
I had long ago decided not to mention them. Not on facebook, twitter, or here. Maybe in the occasional passing story to a friend, but not on a public forum. It’s inappropriate subject matter. And had this been just a one-time occurrence, I could have stuck to my silence. But our neighbors are naked kind of a lot.
But let me rewind. One of the charms of our European living is that our building faces the one across the street. So I think it’s just kind of understood that everyone observes everyone. So we know about the Monty Python posters in the flat of the guys one floor up to the left, we watched and drooled as the stack of Christmas cookie tubs grew taller by the day in the flat directly across and a little to the right, and we know the little old lady one floor down to the left likes to open her window even on the coldest of days and poke her head out to see what’s happening below. But the flat we know the most about is the one directly across from us.
Dennis and I each have a desk in front of the two windows in our living room. The brother and sister across from us each have a desk in front of the windows in their bedroom. You’d think this set-up might result in some awkward stranger stare-offs, but it’s like they don’t even know we’re here.
Maybe that’s why the brother dropped his drawers and headed to the bathroom with only a t-shirt and a parakeet on his shoulder.
Or why the sister was taking pictures of herself in her brassiere.
Or why, tonight, the brother-character tried on a tie in his skivvies.
That’s it. I’m getting the camera out.
Foiled. Here’s a picture of me taking a picture of our half-naked neighbor with his tie.
Here’s a picture of Dennis disapproving.
But before you judge me too harshly for peeping, you should know that I’m nearsighted. As for Dennis, he’s not participating in this tell-all, so who knows what he’s seen.