I had such high hopes for our new neighbors on the other side of the double (the married couple with the baby just bought a house. I mean, they're “having one built.” I love how people tell you that, when it really just means they're moving into a subdivision where all the houses look exactly the same and they were allowed to pick the color of the fridge).
The old neighbors were quiet. Occasionally you'd hear their kid making noise, but that was about it. The new ones are three girls who are, at most, 25, one of which is definitely single and looking, the other two might have boyfriends. They haven't officially moved all their stuff in yet, but over the course of the past week I probably saw at least a dozen different people helping one or the other of the girls. It confused me because I hadn't met all of them yet.
The one I have talked to is a “secret smoker.” She said her roommates don't know that she smokes so she hides in front of the porch and puts her cigarettes out in my ashtray. I think it's very odd. Why would you care what your housemates thought of your habits? This one, Andrea, works at a popular frat-boy bar on the north side and drives the car her parents bought for one of her four sisters. This sister doesn't know how to drive a stick so Andrea got it. It's brand-new Corolla, something I'd love to have, but can't afford. So you can imagine my feelings when she told me what she really wanted was a Mercedes.
Her ringtone has the Sex and the City themesong; she's tall and very thin, tan, with long hair. She always has on makeup and too much perfume. She talks on her cell a lot and makes sure everyone around can hear what she's saying. I learned that one guy won't take the time off from work to go to a wedding with her so she's talking to another guy she met at work who just-so-happens to have a condo in Florida. Which, she giggled, is very good for her.
I thought, “a condo in Florida? Aiming a little low, aren't we?” On this side of town women date men who have multiple houses, not just timeshares in Orlando. They're trophy wives-in-training looking for guys who make more than six figures and who will tolerate their, as Cavan calls them, “LSDs” (Little Shit Dogs). “The Real Housewives of Meridian Kessler,” as I call them.
The other two seem less talkative than her. That is, assuming there are two. Last night, Andrea told me she had two roommates, directly after referring to me as one of them. She'd asked me my name, so I told her. I have no idea if she was drunk, or she's just stupid. I asked how she knew the other girls and what were their names, trying to make polite conversation, and she said “Sarah and Courtney know Whitney from work and I've known Whitney since junior high.”
So I said “Oh, there are four of you?”
“No, just me and Whitney and Sarah.”
Who knows. Maybe they'll turn out to be perfectly nice girls who are just a little slow.