Neighbors (#113)

"Good fences make good neighbors" - Robert Frost
“Good fences make good neighbors”    –Robert Frost

Andy is not the most outgoing guy on the planet. He’s perfectly polite and even warm if you greet him, but he will not go out of his way to meet you. Andy had lived in his townhouse for about 5 years before I moved in and we got married. He said hello to exactly one neighbor.

Andy read this over my shoulder – which I hate — and protested: “Not true! I always said hi to the neighbor on the other side of me. Until, you know, he died.”

 “Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry!”

 “Don’t be. I got his couch.”

 Me: “THIS couch?!”

 Andy: “Uh…”

 Me: “We’re so getting a new couch.”

Once I moved in, of course, things changed. Andy left a door open. Bat Cat escaped unnoticed. Andy shut the door. I found her at 2 AM, her ear bleeding. I was sure Bat Cat had been bitten by a diseased raccoon. I frantically tried to arrange a vet visit the next day. While I was on hold, a neighbor saw Bat Cat in the window. Bat Cat hissed at her. The neighbor knocked, introduced herself as Anna, and explained that Bat Cat had come in her cat door the previous night, helped herself to some of Anna’s cats’ food, and gotten her ear notched in a fight with one of Anna’s cats.

By the time I learned Anna’s cats had all their shots, we were chatting away like best buds. (Possibly I needed someone to talk to since I refused to speak to Andy for 24 hours after he confessed to locking Bat Cat out.)

Anna introduced me to three other neighbors. I invited them to our housewarming party.

“Why?” asked Andy.

“Because they are our neighbors,” I told him. “We’re supposed to be friendly. Say hi. Know their names, at least.”

“I know their names from the Home Owners Association meetings.”

“There are HOA meetings? Really? And everyone’s there? Can I go?”

“NO! I mean, no, your name isn’t on the mortgage so you’re not a homeowner so you’re not allowed.”

“Fine. I’ll make some cookies for you to take to the next meeting, though.”

“Again. Why?”

“Don’t people bring snacks?”

“Uh, well, some.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let me guess. Not you.”

“Well…no. Why should I?”

“OH. MY. GOD. Five years, you’re mooching on everyone else’s snacks and you never brought any? For your neighbors?! This is your cousins all over again!


“Did you not have neighbors growing up?”

“We did. They complained about our mango trees and my mom complained about their dog getting in our yard.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You’re supposed to know your neighbors.”

“We did know them. We knew they were assholes. So we kept to ourselves.”

“But that’s all wrong,” I argued. “You’re supposed to be friends. You take new neighbors cookies when they move in next door.”

“Cookies? For real?”

“Unless you’re in the South,” I explained. “Then you bring a pie. And you dish up pie along with all the neighborhood dirt, compare family trees, and assess if the new neighbors are ‘your’ people.”

“This sounds complicated,” Andy’s voice became plaintive. “Can’t I just go on ignoring them?”

“No,” I insisted. “You are part of a community. Be proactive! When you see them, wave, at least. Say hi.”

I sent Andy to the next HOA meeting with a giant plate of cookies. He returned with none, and grudgingly admitted that everyone had been pleasantly surprised.

A neighborhood garage sale was arranged. So was a barbecue at the pool. We participated in both, met other couples, and got invited to other events. Andy even enjoyed himself a few times. (I said, “I told you so” more than a few times.)

Andy had an end townhouse unit, which was nice – the northern side of the house had lots of windows and lots of light. Across the walkway along the north side of the townhouse, another couple replaced the Dead Couch Neighbor in a townhouse that mirrored ours. So every one of our windows to the north looked directly into their windows to the south. (Sometimes you wonder what the hell architects are thinking.) I insisted on curtains as soon as I moved in.

Our northern neighbors did not have curtains. Maybe they were clueless about the way light and windows work. Maybe they just didn’t care. But one night Andy and I returned from an evening out. Our master suite in the townhouse opened into a giant bathroom/ closet, with steps leading down into the bedroom. I stepped into the bath/ closet area. Straight across from the doorway was a huge picture window. Straight across from our picture window was the neighbors’ picture window.

And framed in the neighbors’ picture window were the neighbors. Naked.


I stopped short. Andy stepped in behind me and reached for the lights.

I yelled, “Don’t!”

Too late. Our light illuminated us – and caught the attention of our naked neighbors. Both of their heads swung our way. We stared at them.

They stared at us, staring at them. Naked.

Andy said, “Should I wave?”

I yelled, “Gahhhh! Turn it OFF!” I dove left, down the stairs into the bedroom.

Andy turned off the light and followed. Chuckling, of course:

“Do you think we’ve seen enough of the neighbors now, honey?”

Published by

Autumn Ashbough

WF writing about the humorous perils of life with Chinese-American significant other.

27 thoughts on “Neighbors (#113)”

  1. That was hilarious. Sort of like you and Andy got to know your neighbours too well in the end. I have to side with Andy on this one. Growing up, I was never close to my neighbours at all. Neither were my parents. That was the case when I lived in Singapore and Malaysia, and then back in Australia. At the very least we’ll say hi to each other when we were leaving or coming back to our house (be it terrace house or flat unit). I suppose we all like our privacy and there are only so many things we can tolerate about others.

    1. Yes, indeed, I saw more of my neighbors than I ever wanted to.

      Neighbors are tricky. I think you have to communicate enough to be helpful in case of emergencies, but not so close that you have friendships that explode and you hate coming home or leaving your house.

      1. That would suck real bad if you hated your neighbours to the core. For instance, no one wants neighbours who plays music or movies very loud at 2am in the morning….

  2. My husband and I have been lucky as far as neighbors are concerned. Our old neighbors tell us how much they miss living next to us [apparently, the new ones are not the friendliest bunch.] And our current neighbors are awesome.

    I know some people are like Andy. Some people like to keep to themselves. However, it is good to know the people surrounding you [but I wouldn’t want to see as much of them as you guys saw.] 😉

  3. Cute! I’m surprised NO one has asked you what your neighbors were doing naked. Watching TV? Having sex? Cooking? Changing? Decorating? Pray tell. Details, dear, details. Full frontal? Nothing but cheeks? Are your neighbors old? young? *taps foot*

  4. My family (who live in a relatively small town) have an open door policy with everyone except the neighbours! To be fair they live in a street where if you don’t hear people screaming profanities at each other for more than a day or two you start to wonder if they are still alive.

    Funnily enough my Chinese fiance and his parents also have contention over their mango tree with their neighbours. I believe it recently escalated to the point where the neighbours poisoned the tree.

  5. Oh wow, never expected something like this 😀
    We live in an apartment block and we/ I pretty much know all people around. Lets just say that there are few who I dont really like…but at least I cant watch into their apartments, god knows what I would see there 😮

  6. …I thought I left a comment here. Did my internet fail me again? D:

    Anyway, you got amazing stories here! They’re all filled with humor, and they never fail to make me laugh or teach me something new, whenever I read them.

    I am so happy to have found you~! 😀

    1. Thanks, Mei! And thanks for sharing. Also laughing. And sharing that you laughed. That’s the best.

      Yeah, sometimes comments get swallowed. Sometimes they are even mine.

      1. Or sometimes, it’s the browser… I got some sort of hybrid, a Mozilla branch or something… and it doesn’t always work that well… Maybe I should’ve just installed Mozilla again…
        Oh, of course! I love your blog! It always makes me laugh (or smile)! You’re such a good writer! (And of course, I told mom I’ll be sharing all the funny stories I read here. ouo)

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