Report of the Middle of the Street Committee

A dark cloud has descended over our bucolic neighborhood and that same dark cloud was the topic at the most recent meeting of the Middle of the Street Committee.

Because the weather was cold that night, the meeting was conducted in conjunction with our two sister groups, the evening Walking of The Dog’s group and the Personal Evening Constitutional Speed Walkers.

So the group was larger, and the wind much more “Blowier”, according to “Storms A Brewing Corliss” who chairs our ad hoc “Neighborhood Weather Watchers” sub-committee, and a bit more chaotic with our dogs getting all tangled.

The group was abuzz because one of the newest households, The Non-Acknowledgement Family (you can wave at them, you can say good morning you can even ask how they are doing and get little to no response in return), on the street was unhappy because a car of theirs was ticketed because it hadn’t moved in a week, and she used the neighborhood Facebook group to express her frustration with her neighbors.

“I don’t want to point fingers, but…” began her missive to the neighbors on the Facebook group.

“The minute I read that I thought, oh, God, here we go: she pointing fingers,” I remarked.

And point fingers she did. She feels like everyone is out to get her. She's mad that the police showed up at her door (they did? when?), that code has been on her and her Lavender House like shit on a pig and that people are subscribing her to magazines that she would never consider buying.

“Has either of them ever talked with you?” asked Just Call Me Judy of the group. "I haven’t been able to introduce myself to them - you know, so they know that they can just call me Judy – because everyone does, but these two duck in and out so quick, I never get the chance.”

“What’s going on?” asked Helicopter Sandy who was late to the party.

Pot Smoking Phil took it upon himself to update Helicopter Sandy. “One of the women living over there,” he pointed, and we all turned around and looked at their house, “feels that…”

“GUYS!” said Just Call Me Judy, “What are you doing? Turn around. Remember, one of her beefs is that she feel like she’s being watched. Go on Phil.”

“One of the women who lives in that house that we’re all not supposed to look at like we did, feels that the neighborhood isn’t welcoming, and that we aren’t supportive, and that someone narc’d on her and called in that car.”

“What car?” asked Helicopter Sandy.

“That heap that was parked down the street that no one knew anything about,” I said. The one with the fender ripped off of and had two different sets of doors – one was green and one was silver.”

“And she thinks that getting a ticket on that piece of junk is a problem,” said I Don't Have a Sphincter Audra. “I’ll tell you I don’t have a sphincter and that is a real problem to go through life with.”

“She doesn’t think we’re a neighborhood,” stated my husband. “She feels that in a supportive neighborhood whoever had the issue with the car would have gone door to door instead of calling the cops to write the ticket.”

The Bob Wolf(e)s jumped all over that.

“Oh, bitch, PLEASE! I read that message from her and it certainly shit all over my day. Go door to door?” commented Bob Wolfe. “Who has that much time? And if Bitch is suggesting that, did anyone suggest to her that maybe she should have gone to her neighbors and told them that was her car?” pointed out Bob Wolf.

“Has either of them ever talked with any of us?” asked Just Call Me Judy of the group.
At this point the committee broke out into a general babble as various members commented at the same time on their various interactions, none of which seemed to indicate that that couple received any overture from any of us with any pleasure on their part.

Bob Wolf asked if they could be Separatist Dykes. “They hate anyone with a penis.” Bob Wolfe read the face of confusion on Just Call Me Judy’s face and added in “they feel that the Penis is the ultimate symbol of the male dominated patriarchal society in which they are damned to live. “

“So, they eschew anyone male because they are a symbol of domination, and prefer instead to associate themselves only with women,” said Bob Wolfe wrapping it up for us.

“Maybe they have a light sensitive disease that causes an allergic reaction to the sun,” Apologetic Abbey added, in hopes of trying to find some medical reason behind their behavior.

The group was joined by One Tooth Bit who, being into all things Facebook, and female, found the whole thing stupid.

“So I got the message and went over to her and asked what this was all about, and she says that she feels like we should have gone out and tried find out who owned this car.  But I asked her: 'did you tell anyone on the street that this heap of shit belonged to you?'  And you know what her response was? 'I was too busy with a personal issue.  And going to the next door neighbors never crossed my mind.  I shouldn't have to go do to door and tell people that the car belongs to someone I know.' And then she adds, 'If this were a supportive neighborhood ...blah, blah, blah and I'm like thinking 'Christ on crack,'” she said. Then, with her blood pressure rising,  Bit added a “What the fuck,” for good measure.

“Potty mouth!” said Storms A Brewing Corliss to Bit. Oh, what a cathartic release that must have been to get that off her chest, but truth be told who knows what brewing in that diseased mouth of her’s. Makes my blood run cold.

"Don't start on me Corliss.  Look this broad thinks that someone on this block has been calling code on her.  So I tell her that all that remodeling they were doing - did they have a permit and she says no, that they shouldn't have to pull a permit.  And I say 'but you ripped out the sidewalk - the city notices things like that when you rip out a fucking sidewalk - especially when they own the flipping thing.'  Jeez - my blood pressure sky high." 

"I sense some inter-Lesbian conflict," said Jamaican Betty. Betty was holding her toothless Yorkie, Manny.

"Just because we both like women doesn't mean we like all women," said Bit. 

The group was then joined by the couple that lived on the other said of these neighbors, Itchy Herb and Facilitator Mary, both professors of psychology at the local community college, and the self appointed leaders of any group meeting.

“Well when I read that message I knew it was a cry for help, so I went next door and asked what I could do. The blond one said ‘Nothing’ and the other one said that she wanted the neighborhood get behind her and form a community, as if we've been living in a desloute vaccum.”

“And that fat bitch down the street who hosts ‘Home Church’ in her house three nights a week,” said One Tooth Bit, “is riding their shirttails and claiming that she is in on forming a community with these two because she feels marginalized.”

“The fat bitch who hates gay people…” asked Bob Wolfe, “…is getting behind the Lesbians?” said Bob Wolf.

“No good can come of …” Pot Head Phil took a hit, “this. It’s like matter and anti-matter.”

"Hold on there people - do you not see what this woman is trying to do?" said Helicopter Sandy. "Look, she wants to be the center of everything.'

"Helicopter Sandy is right," said Itchy Herb.  "I think we're dealing with some who wants to be the sun, and she wants all us planets to revolve around her."

"No dear, I think what you meant is that this woman is the earth and she wants everyone including the sun to revolve around her. That would be a more illogical analogy." Score 1 for Facillitator Mary, Itchy Herb, 0.

The group decided to lay low and watch what happened. Fortunately, with winter around the corner, things tended to cool down a bit, figuratively and literally.

Middle of the Street Committee also noted that the Cruel Filipina Dominatrix, who also didn’t associate with anyone on the street, has pulled her self-listed house off the market and instead listed it with a real realtor.
“Thank God she is out of the loop or we could be looking at a triumvirate of evil involving whips,” said Pot Head Phil as we were breaking up the meeting.

“Somehow, said my husband, “I think that idea excites Phil. And that scares me.”

Anyhow, now when we walk our dogs, or talk our post dinner walks, we're always looking up at the windows on their Lavender house.  And every now and then, we see a lace curtain twitch in a dark window, or the orange glow of a cigarette as well walk by...